Time Isn't Healing
by CallTheWindaThief
Summary: What would happen if Tom Riddle had been caught opening the Chamber the first time? How would the world be different if he never rose to power? Would enemies still be enemies? Would friends still be friends? How would life be different? **AU**
1. Pop

**Author's Note:** Just a warning before you read, this story is very much set in an alternate universe, but nothing I've done is random. I sat down and put great thought and consideration into each family and each character, and if you want an explanation because you don't understand why something is, feel free to PM me about it. Also, the title comes from Feltbeats. Tom is a talented guy. Enjoy.

_Pop_. That was all it took to change two lives forever. One little _pop_. Well, two little pops, but they were pops in different ways. The first _pop_ was the sound of bone snapping beneath angry, strong fingers. A little boy's cry followed soon after, loud, pained, confused. The simple broken arm was easily fixed by someone who knew the right spell, but the boy would be scarred forever. The second _pop_, the louder one, was the sound of a mother and her child appearing on the edge of a river, two large bags in the mother's hands and a smaller one on the back of the boy. The mother looked around quickly, surveying the area while brandishing a lovely piece of woodwork like a wand. When she deemed the place safe, she whispered, "Hold onto Mummy's cloak, pumpkin," to her son and started scrambling up the bank.

"Mummy?" The little boy's voice was loud and seemed to ring in the silence of the night air. His mother glanced down at him but didn't stop moving.

"Yes, dear?"

"Where are we going?"

They started heading down a narrow, cobbled street, never slowing down for a second.

"We're going to visit an old friend, sweetie," the mother whispered rather urgently. "Mummy just needs a little help."

"Is Dad coming?"

They slipped through an alleyway onto another street, and the mother hoped that the darkness would shield the pained expression on her face from her five year old son. "No," she said in a rough whisper. "No, Dad's not coming."

The boy fell silent after that and took to looking around the area instead of asking his mother anymore questions. Some of the street lamps around them were broken; the houses around them were made of brick and their windows were dull and blind. They turned another corner and the boy found that the entire neighborhood they had entered looked like that. His brow furrowed as his heart started pounding a bit faster. The whole place was creepy - especially at night. However, whining had never brought him anything but a sharp smack, so he kept his fear hidden. He didn't say another word until they headed up a street called Spinner's End which seemed to be their destination.

"We're not going to see Auntie 'Dromeda, are we?"

It was a well-known fact that his mother and father weren't quite fond of this particular aunt, and by the way they talked about her, this seemed like the kind of place she'd live. But his mother just shook her head, looking at each house carefully as they passed.

"No, sweetie, we're visiting an old, old friend. He's been around a few times to see your father."

The boy wanted to ask more, but again fell silent. His mother seemed to have found the right house and was now leading him up the walkway. Any of the questions he had would be answered in a few short minutes.

The woman knocked on the door, pulling on her cloak to bring her son closer to her. Together they stood waiting, shivering slightly in the cool air. After a few seconds, movement could be heard behind the door, and it opened a crack. A sliver of a man appeared in the small space, black eyes looking at his visitors. When he realized who they were, his eyes widened and he opened the door a little wider.

"Narcissa," he said, sounding a bit surprised, "what a pleasant...surprise." His mouth seemed to twitch as he spoke and when he looked down at the young boy clinging to his mother's cloak, he frowned. "And little Draco, too?"

"Severus," Narcissa said, her voice strained, "I didn't know what else to do, who else to turn to. Please...may I speak to you? I'm so...so lost a-and I just need a friend."

Severus Snape paused, seeming to consider her words. Then, he opened the door all the way and stepped back, inviting the two Malfoys in with nothing more than a simple nod.

When they passed through the door, Narcissa and Draco found themselves already in a tiny sitting room. Draco tried to hide his look of terror; the place looked like a padded cell. The walls were lined with books of every size, most bound in old leather. All the furniture from the sofa to the rickety table looked well over-used and somewhat broken, and in the dim light of the candle-filled lamp that hung from the ceiling, the room just looked incredibly eery, like the lair of a mad alchemist in which a horrible experiment had gone wrong. He clung to his mother's side, terrified to be in such a house. Malfoy Manor was nothing like this, nor were any of the other houses he had gone to for playdates and such with his father's friend's children. Narcissa, however, didn't even seem phased by the mess and moved over to the sofa, sitting down with Draco still holding onto her tightly and placing her two giant bags at their feet.

"So, what can I do for you?" Snape asked, setting himself in the armchair opposite his two guests. "Usually you try to avoid my, uh...humble abode. So I'm curious as to what drew you out of the Manor at this time of night."

"I didn't know what else to do, Sev," Narcissa said, her voice still quiet and strained. "We couldn't stay in the house anymore, not with Lucius so...so _angry_ all the time. You've heard, surely, about poor Draco's arm?"

Snape turned his gaze to the young blond, and Draco buried his face in his mother's arm. "I hadn't," the hook-nosed man said, and Draco shivered. Something about the guy was just...creepy.

"He snapped it," the witch said, voice rising. "Just snapped it, like it was no big deal! And he continued to hit the poor dear even when he cried out. Oh, Severus, it was awful..."

She placed a protective arm around her son, kissing his head as she tried to hold back her tears. It would do no good to cry in present company. She had a feeling all men were immune to tears.

"Was there any particular thing that brought this on?" Snape said quietly, his voice almost caring.

This was when Narcissa grew tense - Draco could feel it. Even her hand seemed to clamp down harder on his small arm.

"Well," she said, trying to choose her words carefully, "Draco's five now, as you know. And usually by age five, young wizards start to show more...magical properties." Draco found himself flushing in embarrassment. He'd always known that he was different from everyone else around him. While his parents and their friends were able to do magical things with their wands and his friends had random spouts of magical mishaps, he himself had never actually...done anything. He had never made something strange happen without meaning to, had never been anything but ordinary. He had always thought that he was just a particularly good wizard who was able to keep himself in check; but his father had made him feel otherwise, and now he couldn't bring himself to face either one of the adults in the room. "Draco, however...has not."

"So Draco is a squib?"

Narcissa seemed to hiss at the word, and Draco's heart pounded at the sound of it, waiting for the blow he was sure was coming like it always did when that word was mentioned. _Squib, squib, squib._ It was like a curse. Someone said it and Draco got hurt. Surprisingly, though, the pain he was expecting never came. It was then that he decided that he rather liked Severus Snape and that his house wasn't really _that_ creepy. In fact, as he looked around it more, he even noticed a few toys left in the entryway to another room, a small toy broomstick in the corner of the house, and several drawings done on pieces of paper that were hung up where everyone who was looking could see them. There was a child around that was familiar with this place, and Draco figured that if that kid could like it, so could he.

"We're not entirely...sure," Narcissa admitted, rubbing Draco's shoulder soothingly. "I think so, but it's very possible he's just been...afraid. You know...of Lucius."

Snape nodded tightly, but before he could say anything, there was a small _crash_ from another room. The man shut his eyes in a frustrated way and said, "Excuse me for a moment, Cissa. Malcolm's here for the night, and he's rather...fond of getting into things." He then stood from his chair and left the room quickly, leaving Draco and his mother alone.

"Mum?" Draco looked up at the worried face of his mother, wishing with a twisting stomach that he could smooth out the worry lines that had appeared on her face.

"Yes dear?"

"What's a squib?"

"It's a non-magical wizard."

The young boy frowned. "Oh."

His mother seemed to sense his distressed and planted a kiss on his head. "But there's nothing wrong with that," she said quietly, holding him close. "Absolutely nothing wrong at all."

Draco thought she seemed like she was trying to convince herself of that fact more than him, but he didn't argue. The safety of his mother's embrace kept him soothed and quiet until Severus entered the room again, looking tired but generally happy.

"Sorry about that," he said, taking his seat again. "Lily and James are off doing who knows what tonight, and Malcolm can never sleep at Grimmauld Place."

Narcissa nodded, but she was only barely listening to what he was saying. Her mind was elsewhere - on the items she had packed away quickly in their bags, on their current living situation, on how her family would react to something like this happening. It was only when Snape spoke again that she started listening; he was talking straight to her again.

"Narcissa...you did the right thing in leaving. I do not think any less of you because of it." The woman smiled at him, grateful. "But I don't understand what exactly you expect me to do about it."

"I just need somewhere safe," she said quietly. "Somewhere to go where Lucius won't think to look for me." Snape looked annoyed for a second and Narcissa continued quickly, "Please, Severus, you are one of my dearest friends. You are the only person I would trust to know our location, and I know that you know where some perfectly normal Muggle villages are. That's all I need, Sev. I just need to know where I can go where everyone is a Muggle that is just...normal."

Snape sighed, leaning forward in his chair. "You JUST need a normal place to live?" When Narcissa nodded again enthusiastically, he let out another sigh. "Well Lily's sister lives in this neighborhood..."

"Oh thank you, Severus!" Narcissa said, smiling for the first time since they arrived. "Thank you so, so, so much..."

"But," he said sharply, "you must never, _ever_ give any indication that you are not one of them. No magically cleaning the house or cooking, no house elves, no wands, no _anything_."

Narcissa nodded her agreement to this, unable to say anything by that point but, "Thank you, Severus, thank you so much..."

Then Snape got up from his armchair and knelt down in front of Draco. The young boy hid his face for a second but then peeked to look at the man. "Hey Draco," he said quietly, conversationally, and the boy turned to face him fully. "You're going to be moving into a new house soon." Draco's eyes widened. "I know that must sound scary, but Draco? Draco, can you do something for me?" A few seconds passed and the boy nodded. "Okay. When you move into your house, you can't mention magic to anyone. You can't mention witches or wizards or Quidditch or anything. No more magic stuff. And if you accidentally let it slip, just tell them you're playing make believe. Can you do that?" Draco furrowed his brow. "Draco, please? It's for your mummy. She needs you to tell people it's all make believe if you forget not to say anything."

Telling him it was for his mother seemed to work, and Draco then nodded enthusiastically. "Make believe," he repeated, and Snape smiled.

"There you go, kiddo."

Narcissa watched the exchange with a small, sad smile. Snape really had a way with kids - surprising, as she had always pegged him as the child hating type.

Snape stood up again, looking down at the bags Narcissa had brought with them with a laugh. "I'm guessing you want to get moved in right away?"

Narcissa laughed shakily, as if unsure if she should be laughing during this period in her life at all. "It would help, yes," she said. "I don't want to intrude any more than I have to. Especially with your godson here."

Snape nodded again. "Right. Come with me then. I'll show you to Privet Drive."

And with another _pop_, the two Malfoys left the Wizarding world as they knew it behind them and allowed change to take over their lives.


	2. An Unexpected Friend

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They lived normal lives with their normal son in their normal neighborhood in a very normal house. There was nothing unusual about the family at all. Mr. Dursley was a large man with a large mustache and a larger personality. Some might call him personable, even likable in social situations, though his temper when things didn't go as planned was as large as the rest of him. His wife, Petunia, was his very opposite. She was small in every way, thin and short and rather without a personality of her own. However, she did make the perfect hostess, the very complement that her husband needed to complete his normal life. Their son, Dudley, was large like his father with a round face and blond hair. He spent most of his time watching TV, playing video games, and teasing the other children who lived in their neighborhood. Yes, the Dursleys were as normal as families got these days, and they made it their goal to smooth out anything that could be viewed as out of the ordinary. Which is why when the new neighbors moved in, they were _very_ interested indeed in finding out who they were, why they moved there, and how in the world they managed to move into the house in the middle of the night without anyone noticing.

Petunia was the most interested of them all. While she did like to get Dudley acquainted with people (he would be starting school at the end of the summer and she wanted him to know as many children as possible beforehand so that he didn't feel alone in class) and Vernon always needed new customers, it was she who always remained at home and entertained guests over tea while her boys were out doing whatever it is boys do. And if _she_ didn't get to meet the new neighbors before anyone else, she would have to live with the awful fact that she was not, in fact, the first to be nosy and go poking around and learning everything about the new family that she could. Not to mention, it would be completely embarrassing to invite one of her neighbors over to tea only to have them bring along the new neighbor and introduce them. It was Petunia's goal in life to know everybody and everything before anyone else, and she would not - absolutely would _not_ - allow anyone to meet this new family before she got the chance.

So that was how she found herself, at eight that morning, walking down to the previously vacant house in a cocktail dress with a tray of home baked biscuits, Dudley and her husband trailing behind her. "I don't understand why we have to go so early in the morning," Vernon Dursley was saying, wiping the sleep from his eyes as Dudley yawned. "They probably won't even be up..."

"Nonsense," Petunia replied, straightening the front of her dress as they approached the door to number twelve Privet Drive. "They JUST moved in. Any sensible person would be at this very moment getting everything straightened out before the new neighbors came to greet them. And we _will_ be the first to meet them." Vernon still grumbled lowly under his breath, but didn't argue with his wife. When she got in this sort of state, there was really no use in it.

"Now Dudley," Mrs. Dursley said, as they stopped outside of the stranger's door. "If there is a child in the house, you must do your best to befriend him or her. You will probably attend school with them one day and it's best for all of us. If there isn't, then remain quiet while the adults talk and I promise I'll bake you a nice chocolate cake when we get home." This was enough to keep her son in check, and Dudley just nodded, eyes focused on the tray of biscuits his mother was currently holding. "Vernon, dear," she continued, turning now to her husband. "If there is a man in the house, you _must_ engage him in business conversation." Vernon scoffed but didn't say anything. Of _course_ he would do just that! Honestly, who did his wife think he was? "As for me, I will be entertaining the lady of the house if there is one, and oh Vernon, you must compliment her on how lovely she looks. It's just polite. And Dudley, sweetums, if there are no children to entertain you, please do not speak until spoken to. We must be on our best behavior so we make a grand first impression."

The boys didn't say anything. They ran through this drill every time someone new moved into the neighborhood, and every time, it all worked out without any difficulties whatsoever. But it was not like Petunia Dursley to allow her family to meet new people without preparation, and after she nearly started crying the first time they argued, they stopped trying to get her to cut the speech out of this extremely important routine. She simply just wouldn't have it.

She, of course, was the one to knock - three times, each one noticeably louder than the one before it. She then sat back with her tray of cookies and when she heard movement behind the door, she said, "Don't forget to smile," and painted her own sickeningly sweet grin on her face just before the door was opened by a beautiful blond woman about Petunia's age.

"Oh," the woman said, looking rather surprised, "hello there."

"Hello, dear!" Petunia said happily, feeling rather satisfied that she would have another person to add to her tea invitations list. "I'm Petunia, this is my husband Vernon, and our son Dudley." She motioned to each one in turn, and Vernon extended his hand to shake while Dudley just waved shyly. "We're your new neighbors. We live down the street, at house number four."

The woman still looked rather surprised to see them there, but she blinked away her expression quickly. "Oh right, right," she said, smiling sweetly. "Forgive me, I only just woke up. Come on in, please."

Petunia was absolutely glowing. This was going to be her gloating tool for the next few weeks - she was _once again_ the first one to be acquainted with the new people in the neighborhood. She stepped into the house with Vernon and Dudley close behind, and she took one look around the house and nearly gasped. It was beautiful, wonderfully decorated with the most beautiful furniture she had ever seen. Though the walls were empty of photographs or personal things, they were adorned with beautiful paintings that looked as though they were just bought. The entire place smelled vaguely of pumpkins, but not in a bad way, and Petunia was beginning to think that she was going to get along with this woman nicely.

"I'm sorry for the mess," the woman said as she closed the door, gesturing to a few boxes, neatly stacked, next to the couch. Petunia let out a laugh and said, "Nonsense, your house is beautiful."

The woman smiled warmly. "Thank you very much, Petunia," she said. "I'm Narcissa, by the way. Narcissa Malfoy."

"That's a very lovely name," Vernon said then, trying to insert himself into the conversation. "Very...exotic." Petunia just stared, that same smile on her face. Narcissa _was_ a different sort of name. Fitting in beauty to how this woman looked with her perfectly curled hair and pressed pink sun dress, but still different in a way that she couldn't quite put her finger on...

"Oh thank you, Vernon," Narcissa said pleasantly, leading them further into the living room, and gesturing toward the couch. "Would you three like to take a seat? Oh and are those biscuits, Petunia? They look absolutely lovely."

Obviously this woman was raised to be well mannered, and any suspicions Petunia had about her name were pushed aside as she took a seat on the beautiful white couch. "They are indeed," she said with a grin. "I baked them this morning. I do hope you're not allergic to walnuts."

Narcissa grinned, taking a seat in a chair opposite the Dursley family. "Not at all. In fact, my son loves them." She paused then, seeming to remember something, then turned in her chair and called out, "Draco, sweetie, we have guests!"

Petunia raised her eyes curiously, glancing at Dudley quickly before looking passed Narcissa to see a little blond boy walking toward them wearing black slacks and a tucked in white shirt, as though he was dressing for church before his mother had called him out. "I'm sorry, Mummy, I couldn't hear you properly. I was changing. What did yo-?" He paused when he saw that they had company and said, "Oh," quietly, before straightening his posture. "Hello."

Narcissa smiled adoringly at her son. "Draco, dear," she said, "these are our new neighbors. There's Mr. and Mrs. Dursley and their son Dudley. Dursleys, this is my son, Draco. Draco, sweetie, Mrs. Dursley was ever so kind as to make these biscuits for us." Draco's eyes flicked to the tray that was now on their coffee table, eying the treats much like Dudley was doing. "Go on and take one, dear."

Draco reached for the tray, grabbed one of the smallest biscuits there, smiled at their company and said, "Thank you very much, Mrs. Dursley." Petunia automatically adored him and Narcissa looked like she might explode with pride at Draco's good manners. He bit into the biscuit and made a small noise of contentment. He made sure every morsel of it was swallowed before saying, "They're yummy!" and eating the rest eagerly. Narcissa laughed in adoration and Petunia followed suit, saying, "Oh thank you, you charming young man. Aren't you very handsome?" Draco glowed with pride and continued to eat while his mother and Mrs. Dursley spoke.

"How old is he? He's absolutely darling."

"He just turned five on the fifth. They grow up so fast."

"You don't say! Little Dudders here turns five on the twenty-third!"

"Really? Oh how lovely. Are you enrolling him in school here then?"

"Well of course. What about Draco?"

"Oh of course. Only the best for my little pumpkin."

Dudley, bored already with this conversation, reached for a biscuit himself and Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste as the large boy grabbed a couple of the largest ones. The movement, however, seemed to have attracted Narcissa's attention because she said in a soft but commanding voice, "Draco, darling, why don't you show Dudley to your room? You can play there while Mummy talks to her new friends."

The word 'friends' sparked something within Petunia and she added, "Yes, Dudders, go have fun with your new friend. I'll come get you when we're done talking." Dudley grinned before greedily grabbing more biscuits and looking expectantly at Draco. Draco just gave him a tight grin and then looked at Mrs. Dursley. "May I have another biscuit?" Petunia raised her eyebrows before looking over at Narcissa, who nodded. Then she said, "Well, of course you can Draco. I made them just for you and your mummy." Draco then grinned and grabbed another biscuit before saying, "Come on, Dudley," and running off with the rather larger boy toward his bedroom.

Draco's room was definitely tidier than any other boy's room that Dudley had seen before, and he said so as he jumped back onto the strange bed, getting crumbs all over the green sheets. Draco, annoyed, chose to ignore him and instead ate his biscuit and looked around the room. It was a lot emptier than his room back at the Manor. In the Manor, pictures adorned his wall, Quidditch magazines lay on his floor at all times, and his toys were almost never put away. He had a toy broomstick he liked to play with as well as a few books with moving pictures that he liked to laugh at. But this had all been deemed too magical and given to Snape to take good care of. All Draco had now were boring Muggle books about dinosaurs and toy cars that didn't even move on their own. It was all very dull, and he was quite upset about how...different his bedroom looked. It didn't look alive anymore; nothing moved unless he moved it himself. It was very depressing.

Dudley, though, didn't even seem to notice the lack of movement. In fact, he inspected everything in Draco's room carefully, exclaiming over the tiniest things like something called Lincoln logs and LEGOS and how Draco was lucky to own both. Draco just shrugged. He didn't see the big deal in connecting colorful blocks like they were going to make something interesting. If the creations he made with LEGOS moved after he assembled them, maybe then he'd be more interested. But as far as he knew, if he built one of those 'dinosaurs' with LEGOS, it would just sit there until he decided to move it. Snape told him that this was called playing 'make believe' but Draco didn't see the point of pretending to be someone or something else when he was perfectly content with being Draco.

"Whoa, THIS is cool." Draco turned to see Dudley poking at a Sneakascope that Snape said they could take with the excuse that it was something called a 'top'. It was more for Draco's protection than anything so he didn't see what was so cool about it, but Dudley seemed transfixed by the colors. "My uncle James has one of these," he carried on, and that attracted Draco's attention quickly enough. "His is a lot bigger but I always thought it was cool. He keeps it in his car, though. He told me once it was because Aunt Lily gets bored on car rides and likes to play with it." He flicked the Sneakascope, obviously trying to make it fall over, but it never lost its balance. "What is it anyway?"

"It's a top," Draco said just like Snape told him to, but Dudley shook his head.

"Nah, tops fall over."

"Well," Draco said, letting that famous Malfoy sass slip into his tone, "not this kind. It's a special kind."

Dudley's eyes widened. "Special?"

"Yeah. They're super rare, and you probably just can't afford one like this. Which is why you don't know that it can stay up on its own."

Dudley frowned. "My cousin Harry says everyone where he comes from has them," he said. "So how does that make them rare?"

Draco was already annoyed at this Harry person. "Well _Harry_ is wrong."

"I wouldn't tell Harry that if I were you. Harry's never wrong."

Draco scoffed. "Please, I could tell him loads he wouldn't understand."

Though, Draco thought, if Harry knew what a Sneakascope was and his father owned one...and everyone had one around him...did that mean...?

"I don't know. Harry's always saying weird stuff is gonna happen and then it does. I don't argue with him much anymore."

"Well goodie for Harry," Draco said, "but he probably _isn't_ always right, _Dudders_. It's a top and it's rare."

Dudley frowned. "Don't call me that, prissy boy," he said. "You know what? Harry will be here in a few weeks for my birthday. You can meet him there and you'll see."

"And what makes you think I want to be around you on your birthday?"

"_Everyone_ who is anyone will be there," Dudley said smugly. "Unless you're a nobody, you'll show up. Besides, my mom will probably make you guys come. She's obsessed with neighborly things like that."

Draco scoffed. Right. Like anybody could think he, Draco _Malfoy_ was-

Oh, wait. This wasn't the Wizarding world. People didn't fear his father, didn't know he had money, and didn't know that his pure genealogy went back as far as anyone could find. The name _Malfoy_ meant nothing to anyone on Privet Drive. He frowned. He didn't much like that.

"Well I _guess_ I could go to your birthday," Draco said. "Just to teach this Harry guy a thing or two about tops."

Dudley found this statement incredibly amusing and he didn't stop laughing until Petunia walked into Draco's room, telling Dudley that it was time for him to go home. The boy went willingly, departing only with, "Don't forget my present," and leaving Draco's room with more food crumbs in it than the Malfoy heir would ever have allowed if he had any power over it. He stared at the crumbs on his comforter, trying to will them away while thinking angrily of bad things he would like to happen to one Dudley Dursley. According to Vince and Greg, two kids of some friends of his father, this was how they first discovered they could do magic; they got angry. But Draco didn't feel any stirring of power deep within him, and the crumbs remained on the bed until he finally had enough and brushed them down onto the floor.

If this was how living like a Muggle was going to be, Draco could understand why his father had hated him so much for being a Squib.

* * *

><p>On the twenty-third of June, Draco found himself being dragged toward number four Privet Drive by his mother, a gift of chocolate and a Muggle "video game" tucked under his arm and wrapped in bright orange paper. Dudley's birthday was hardly something to celebrate, he found himself thinking, as the boy wouldn't have many more if he kept eating the way he did, but Draco didn't complain. After several more visits from the Dursleys, he found it was much easier to just let Dudley do whatever he wanted and watch him get in trouble when he messed something up. Arguing would just prolong the inevitable and make Draco angry, so he decided to just sit back and enjoy the stupidity of Dudley Dursley. However, spending the entire day at his birthday party didn't sound quite as fun. There would be people there who legitimately liked him and then he would also have to confront this mysterious cousin who knew what a Sneakascope was and tell him to stop telling Dudley things that would make him ask questions. And not one for insulting people without reason, Draco was already feeling guilty for the lecture he had in store for the kid.<p>

"Now remember, Draco," his mother was saying as she squeezed his hand encouragingly, "be nice to Dudley on his big day. And be nice to all his friends. It'll be good for you to extend your social circles before school. Very beneficial. We want to fit in here as much as possible so that people don't start getting suspicious." Draco nodded. He knew why they lived there, why he had to be careful. Because of his dad. And how he had hurt him. But he still didn't know why they had to leave the Wizarding world completely. All the Muggles he'd met so far, he didn't like.

However, his thoughts were distracted by his mother saying, "Oh my God," quietly and stopping in her tracks. Draco, too, stopped and looked in the direction his mother was staring at. What he saw was a family of four staring right back. There was a rather tall and beautiful woman with flaming red hair, a tall black-haired man with glasses, and two younger boys who also had black hair, though only one seemed to have acquired his father's bad eyesight. Draco raised his eyebrows. What was the big deal about them? But then the man called out to Draco's mom.

"Narcissa," he said, his voice surprisingly even and pleasant sounding. "What are you doing here?"

Narcissa walked toward him to shorten the distance between him. There was no need to make a scene. "I should be asking the same," she said. "Severus said you two almost never dropped by here."

What? Snape knew these people? It was then that Draco remembered what Snape had said before. _"Well Lily's sister lives in this neighborhood..._" This must be the Lily and James that Severus was talking about. Draco stared at them curiously, wondering how they came to have mutual acquaintances with the Malfoy family if Draco had never met them before.

"We usually don't," Lily said. "But recently, James and I decided that we'd leave Harry and Malcolm here with my sister every summer so we can have a break without bothering their godfathers too much." She put a hand on either one of her children's shoulders and Draco tried to pick out which one was the one he had to put in his place. He couldn't decide by staring alone. "But what are you doing here? Sev hasn't mentioned you since he told us about Draco's arm..."

And suddenly, all eyes were on him and Draco did his best to look each one of them in the eye before the bespectacled child with bright green eyes caught his attention again. He snickered quietly and elbowed the younger one, who just stared back. Draco was dying to ask what was so funny but years of conditioning with his father had taught him not to speak out of turn when adults were around. That and he really didn't want to get off on the wrong foot with people he'd be in the same room with all day.

"Well we obviously couldn't stay there," Narcissa said, her voice now significantly quieter. "Did Sev even mention why Lucius got so angry in the first place?"

"No," James said, shaking his head. "Just that Draco was fine now and you were lost as to what to do."

"Well at least I know he takes this whole secret location thing seriously," she snorted, and Lily smiled at her as if to say "That's our Severus". "We actually moved in a week or so ago, didn't we sweetie?" She squeezed Draco's hand and he nodded. "The Dursleys were the first to come over to try and befriend us and we told them Draco would love to attend their son's birthday party. I didn't realize that Petunia was...you know. THAT Petunia."

Lily laughed. "Most of our kind don't, when they first see her," she admitted. "She's rather...normal, isn't she?" Narcissa nodded her agreement and Draco resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose. He liked Petunia Dursley well enough, but she was almost _too_ normal. Like she tried too hard to be that way, whereas with his mother it was just natural.

"Why did you move here of all places though, Cissy?" James said, brow furrowed. "I mean Privet Drive is a nice area but it's..." He looked around and then leaned forward. "It's a big too 'Muggle' for a Malfoy to be living, isn't it?"

Petunia frowned. "Why don't we go inside?" she said. "I'll tell you two all about it after I've properly greeted Petunia. We've come to be surprisingly good friends."

James laughed. "You two would," he said. "Happy to see you're able to put your prejudices aside. They're good people, underneath it all." He then looked down at his two kids and said, "Harry, Malcolm, why don't you two take Draco inside and show him where to put the presents? Then you can help him settle in with everyone else. And please try not to leave him. You two both know what it's like to not know anyone."

"Sure thing, Dad," the one with glasses said and he reached out and tugged on Draco's shirt sleeve. "Come on, let's go see if Aunt Petunia's put out any food yet." This made Draco snort and he walked off with the two dark haired children, still confused as to which one was which. But he was sure he'd find out soon - he had a feeling his mother expected him to stay close to those two and he had no objections to that. Anything to avoid having to act like Dudley's friend.

"I'm Harry," the bespectacled child said, still holding onto's Draco's sleeve. "Harry Potter. And this is my brother, Malcolm." Malcolm waved shyly, obviously the shyer of the two. Draco waved back the best he could with Harry's firm grip on his sleeve. "And you're Draco Malfoy, right? I know _all_ about you."

Draco frowned. He didn't like the sound of that. "I'm sorry I can't say the same about you," he said. Then he leaned in and said, "Though Dudley tells me you know what a Sneakascope is. Curious."

That made Harry's eyes widen and he said hurriedly, "Please tell me you didn't tell him what that was."

Draco snorted. "Of course not," he said. "I told him it was one of those top-y thingies. Weird, though. He doesn't seem magical at all."

"That's because he's not," Malcolm piped up and Harry snickered again.

"If his parents found out," Harry said, "that any of us were magical? They'd be so mad. Aunt Tuni's the only one who knows right now but I think she tries to forget it and we don't like to remind her. It's not normal enough by her standards."

Interesting. Draco wanted to ask more but then they passed through the front doors and he thought it pointless to try to be heard over all the noise. Harry still had a firm grip on his shirt, though, so he didn't have to fear losing the two boys. He didn't think there was any force in the world strong enough to remove Harry's hand.

"Just put your gifts there," he said, gesturing toward a table laden with presents of all shapes and sizes, taking a small package out of his pocket to contribute to it himself. "Not that I think Dud needs anymore. Half of those are from his parents. Even if everyone else forgot about him, he'd be fine." Malcolm laughed at this, and Draco allowed himself to laugh to. No matter how Dudley had spoken about Harry, the boy didn't seem to have much admiration for his cousin and that put him on Draco's good list for now. He deposited his bright orange present and then felt himself get pulled by Harry once more, his hand slipping down more around Draco's wrist now that he was able to move freely without the danger of hurting a present. When they broke free of the crowd, Draco found himself standing in the cleanest kitchen he had ever seen before in his life with the most food on the counters that he'd ever seen in one place at a time. He looked over the desserts and licked his lips - he had a notorious sweet tooth and he was happy his mom dragged him out just because he got to view such tasty treats. His thoughts of devouring food, though, were interrupted by a loud squeal of, "Harry! Malcolm!" and he felt his arm get pulled around as Harry was pulled into a tight embrace by his aunt, still refusing to let go. He was really taking his parents' orders seriously.

"Ah and Draco!" she said, noticing the young blond for the first time and pulling him into a hug as well. "I see you've met my nephews. How sweet!" Her face, however, didn't reflect this. She looked somewhat troubled. "Where's your mother, dear?"

"Outside," Draco said, pointing with his free hand. "Talking to Harry and Malcom's parents."

Petunia's eyes widened and she immediately pushed passed the boys saying, "Then I must greet her. Feel free to help yourself to some biscuits, boys. But don't tell Dudders or he'll eat too much and get a tummy ache." And with that, she left them standing alone in a kitchen full of delicious pastries. As soon as she was out of earshot, Harry and Malcolm burst out laughing, Harry finally dropping Draco's arm.

"What's so funny?" Draco finally asked, feeling free to do so without the presence of adults.

"It's Aunt Tuni," Malcolm said before laughing again.

"She's so freaked out a-about Mom and Dad," Harry said, wiping his eyes. "That's never not funny."

Draco wanted to ask more questions, but decided to just let the brothers enjoy their moment. He didn't want to seem too nosy at first after all.

After the boys were done laughing, Harry grabbed Draco's sleeve again. "Come on," he said, "Dudley's probably in the sitting room playing video games. We should go say 'hi'." Draco wrinkled his nose, making Malcolm laugh again, but he followed anyway, feeling oddly comforted by the presence of the two Potter boys. Maybe he had to live in a Muggle neighborhood with Muggle neighbors and Muggle friends. But he still felt most comfortable around those he'd grown up around and whether he knew Harry and Mal at all or not, he felt a sort of camaraderie between them that he hadn't felt with anyone else. Because they knew. He didn't have to dodge questions and say it was all make believe with them. Because they knew.

* * *

><p>Dudley's party was predictably boring. The fat boy spent most of it playing video games and telling stories about the past week or so that Draco happened to know for a <em>fact<em> wasn't true. The cake and other pastries were delicious, and Draco was accepted quickly among the children who had showed up for Dudley's birthday, but other than that, it was dreadfully dull and watching Dudley 'celebrate' was the most nauseating thing he had ever witnessed in his entire life. Everyone doted on him, not even caring that the spoiled boy was whining in order to get his way, and though Draco knew that he had his own version of a spoiled brat inside of him, he had never met someone who acted like Dudley Dursley and was able to get away with it before in his life. He opened every present with a bored air, as if the magnificent gifts he got were nothing, and he treated everyone around him as if they were below him. The only comfort that Draco got from being there was that every time Dudley did something stupid, there was Harry right by his side to whisper a sarcastic insult into Draco's ear and make him laugh. The two bonded quickly and it didn't take long until Draco was already thinking of Harry as a friend.

Malcolm had disappeared to go back with his mother and father almost immediately after Dudley opened his gifts, hoping to get a big slice of cake by using them to get to the table first. But Harry had stayed behind to pull on Draco's sleeve again and say quietly, "Follow me," before disappearing into the crowd of people. Not wanting to lose him, Draco immediately followed, though he did cast one last longing look at the cake as he did so.

He found Harry sitting outside on the front steps of the house waiting for him, somehow with two slices of cake on a plate and a pair of plastic forks. Draco raised his eyebrows. "Blimey, Harry!" he said, taking a seat next to his friend. "Where did you get these from?"

"Sneaked 'em out of the kitchen," he grinned, and though Draco couldn't ever remember Harry leaving his side, he wasn't about to argue. "Hope you like chocolate cake."

"It's my favorite," Draco replied, digging into one of the slices greedily. Harry laughed.

The two sat there in silence for a few minutes, just eating cake and enjoying finally breathing air that wasn't being shared by Dudley. Though Draco had gone to the party with every intention of telling Harry that he _didn't_ in fact know everything, he had somehow ended up liking the boy a lot more than he did his cousin, and he found himself feeling disappointed that it was Dudley who lived at Privet Drive and not Harry. It would be much easier to have another magical family around.

"So," Harry said as he finished his slice, "how do you know what a Sneakascope is?"

"My mum got one so we know how to avoid my dad," Draco replied simply. "But I thought you knew _all_ about me."

Harry grinned. "Okay maybe I don't know ALL about you," he said. "But I didn't expect Dud to know another wizard. I thought me and Mal were the only ones."

"Can you do magic then?" Draco said, frowning slightly. Harry nodded enthusiastically and Draco's stomach twisted.

"Can't you?" Harry asked, and when Draco shook his head, Harry just said, "Well, that's okay. You'll be able to soon. Me and Mal are probably just early bloomers or something."

Malcolm could do magic, too? Draco was suddenly wishing he hadn't eaten so much cake. "I won't be able to do magic soon," he said quietly. "I'll never be able to do it at all."

Harry's brow furrowed. "But I thought-?"

"My mum's a witch. And my dad's a wizard. But I'm not. Dad says I'm a..." He closed his eyes so his wince woudln't be so noticeable. "_Squib_."

He didn't know what he was expecting Harry to do to be honest. Be disgusted, run away. Treat it like a disease the way others did. Try to run from it like his mother. Try to beat him out of him like his father. But Harry just smiled and patted his knee and said, "That's okay anyway."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "You don't think I'm weird?"

"No way!" Harry said. "It's just like you're a Muggle like Dudley only you know about magic stuff so you're like...cooler."

A cooler Muggle. He could live with that. He smiled. "How long are you gonna be here, Harry?" he asked. "Is it just today?"

"No," Harry said, "we usually stay until my birthday. Then the Dursleys take me to a park or something for my birthday party and I just go home with Mom and Dad."

"When's your birthday?" Draco asked, suddenly curious.

"July thirty-first. So I'm here for like an entire month. It's super boring."

A month. Draco grinned. He had a month. A month that he could spend with a wizard who didn't look down on him for being a Squib, a wizard who sneaked him chocolate cake, who made fun of Dudley with him, and who made him feel...warm. Like maybe Privet Drive could be home.

"Well you can hang out with me," Draco said, "and all that. You can tell me about what's going on back home. Tell me if any new toy brooms have been released."

Harry laughed. "I think I'd like that," he said. Then he put his hand on his stomach and said, "Oops, looks like my belly wants more cake. Ready to go grab some?" Draco laughed and nodded, walking back into the house, where they were met by an anxious looking Lily and Narcissa, who thought they had lost the boys somehow. And as they both enjoyed their second slice of cake with grins filled with promises of a good month, Draco couldn't help but wonder at his luck of moving to a place where the most normal people around were related to a family of wizards. He was grateful, and by the time Harry's month at Privet Drive was over, he felt closer to him than he ever had to any of his other friends before. When Harry left, he slipped him a birthday present before he got into the car to go and told him to tell him all about the party when he came back next year. Harry swore to, and when they closed the door to drive off, Harry waved at Draco through the back window of the car until he was sure his new blond-haired friend couldn't see him anymore. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, and Draco thought that putting up with Dudley was worth it for the next eleven months if it meant he got to see Harry during the twelfth.


	3. Innocence

Years passed for Draco Malfoy on Privet Drive. He started school not long after Harry left him that July, and he grew popular among his classmates quickly. They found him funny, charming, and even though he developed a bit of a superiority complex very young, it was nothing compared to Dudley Dursley. And even though the two seemed to have formed some sort of alliance, it was obvious which one was easier to get along with. His school days were hardly lonely and he made many friends, though none of them really impacted him the way that Harry did. About a month after his friend left, Draco received a letter in the Muggle post written in swirly handwriting that could only belong to Harry's mother, and when Narcissa read it aloud, Draco was ecstatic to hear that Harry wanted to keep their friendship going through the months via post. He immediately begged his mother to write a reply so he could contact his friend as soon as possible. When eleven months finally passed and Draco was able to see Harry again, he jumped on him with unrestrained enthusiasm and didn't even care that Malcolm snickered at the two of them as they hugged.

Each year was the same. Harry and Draco would be inseparable for the month that they were together - sometimes Harry would bring presents from the Wizarding world, and other times Draco would share popular toys from the Muggle world with his friend, which Harry always described as "wicked". Then Harry would go and they would write one another at least once a month, and then once a week when they both learned how to write readable letters. And then Harry would return in the summer and the whole thing would start over again. It got to the point that whenever James and Lily had somewhere to go, they always asked Vernon and Petunia to take in little Harry instead of his godfather, and they gladly agreed. Harry alone was a joy in their life as he never caused any real problems, but now having Harry around also meant having Draco around and Petunia was always happy for any reason at all to get a chance to talk to Narcissa. She hadn't had a true friend in years and though she would be embarrassed to admit it out loud, she and Narcissa had grown very close throughout the years. She even set up Cissy with a few people from Vernon's office, hoping to find her a nice guy to settle down with. If she had to take Harry into her home every now and then to have an excuse to head down to the Malfoy household at number twelve, well, then she would do so without complaint.

Then one day, Draco got a letter from Harry that made him smile wider than usual. It was a few days before Draco's eleventh birthday, and Harry had already given him a present better than anything he could hope to get five days from then.

_Draco,  
>Sorry this letter isn't very long and doesn't contain much, but I'm packing.<br>We're going to be at Privet Drive soon. I wanted to give you your birthday  
>present on time this time, you know? Besides, I have awesome news to<br>tell you. See you in a few days.  
>- Harry<em>

Harry was coming early. Early - for HIS birthday. The thought made him happy and he quickly ran out to tell his mom the good news.

The day of Harry's arrival, Draco could hardly sit still. He spent most of his time looking out the window, waiting for the familiar car to appear outside the Dursley's front door. He walked away from the window for meals and to use the bathroom; the rest of the time was spent watching and waiting, looking hopeful at every passing car and getting disappointed when they didn't stop. Finally, though, after what felt like a lifetime of waiting, a familiar car pulled onto the street, and Draco immediately lit up. "Mum - MUM. They're here!"

The two Malfoys made their way into the street, Draco at a run and his mother holding a tray of appetizers to greet the Potters with after their long journey (though she knew the journey wasn't really that long at all, thanks to their good friend magic). The force of Draco colliding with his friend sent the two boys sprawling on the grass, laughing and trying to disentangle themselves so they could talk properly. Narcissa smiled down at her son - though Draco was typically reserved around other children, whenever Harry was around, he was a ball of unstoppable energy. It was like Harry brought out the best in him the way his other friends never could. And as she watched the boys converse on the grass, laying side by side, too lazy to get up, she suddenly felt grateful for Severus for recommending Privet Drive. Without Harry there to help him adjust, Narcissa wasn't sure how Draco would have reacted to all the change.

"You guys took your sweet time getting here," Draco said, looking over at Harry from where he lay as their parents started to talk. Harry shrugged, though it looked rather awkward from this angle.

"Malcolm wanted to drop by Diagon Alley," Harry said with a grin. "Something about ice cream."

Draco grinned back. Harry knew all about Draco's sweet tooth and the mention of ice cream was just to tease him. "Well tell Malcolm to keep his sweet tooth under control. I thought you'd never show up."

"Your birthday is tomorrow, Malfoy," Harry said, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. "So you should have known that I would come today."

Draco loved how it was that simple, that their friendship had progressed that much. Harry said that he would be there for his birthday, so he would be. He could depend on him. Before Harry, he had never had a person to depend on before in his life. The thought made him feel almost giddy and he hoped he wasn't smiling too much. He didn't want to seem like too much of a girl.

"So what's this big surprise you have anyway?" Draco asked after a few moments of silence, and Harry opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a door slamming open behind them. Forgetting for a moment whose lawn they were on, the young blond jumped, especially at the cry of, "Harry, dear!" that certainly didn't come from his mother's mouth. He turned around to see Petunia bending down to give Harry a hug, Vernon and Dudley taking the more stoic route and just nodding in greeting behind her. As soon as he saw Draco, however, Dudley made his way over to the two other boys and sat down next to the blond, giving him a smirk.

"First to greet your boyfriend as usual, Malfoy?" he sneered, quietly enough for the conversing adults to miss.

"First to say something stupid as usual, Dursley?" Draco replied with a simple raise of his eyebrows, and the large boy laughed. Obviously this was his form of bonding, though after six years, Draco still wasn't used to Dudley's weird way of showing affection.

"I see you've grown wider, Dudders," Harry said, unhappy at being ignored for his friend. Draco snickered quietly at the conversational tone his friend took, and Dudley just stared stupidly back, as if unsure of whether or not he had just been insulted. "No, really, Dud," Harry continued as Draco covered his mouth with his hand to hide his smile, "have you? I mean, if I was a blue whale, I'd say that you look better than before. Have you been eating a lot of pastries?"

Dudley frowned. "Very clever, Potter," he spat. "I didn't mean to anger you by addressing the missus before saying hi to you."

"Well don't make that mistake again, Dudley, it pisses me off."

Draco stared for a second before adding, "And I'm not...the missus."

"What? Oh, yeah, and Draco isn't the missus, Dudley, that pisses me off, too."

Draco was too amused to even act offended.

Harry then sat straight up, dusting the grass from his shirt. "I'm bored with this lying on the ground thing," he announced. "Hey, Dud, got any new video games?"

Dudley, as they all knew, did in fact have new video games. But Harry, as only Draco knew, didn't really want to play them. They both stared at Dudley intently, watching the range of emotions play across his face. While he hated sharing anything, ESPECIALLY his video games, he had an attachment to Draco and Harry that made him want to be nicer to them. When they were around, the others kids in the neighborhood were much kinder to him, and pissing off Draco and Harry was a good way to make enemies he didn't want. On the other hand, they were HIS video games and his cousin had no right to try to and take them away from him for any period of time. Evidently, his conflicting emotions wasted too much time and Harry, not as amused as he thought he'd be, said, "Oh forget it, then. Come on, Draco, let's go to your place."

Draco glanced warily toward his mom, who was now chatting amiably with Petunia and Lily while James and Malcolm stood listening to one of Vernon's many work stories. He didn't like going anywhere without telling her, but if it was just their house...and he'd be with Harry...

_"_Yeah, okay," he said, standing as his friend did, brushing himself off.

"Can I come?"

Dudley's question was unexpected and it showed in the surprise in Harry's features. However, he must have soon remembered his distaste for his cousin because it didn't take long for him to say, "Of course you can't come, Dudley. Draco and I have things to discuss."

"Like what? Your honeymoon location?"

"Yeah," Harry laughed, grabbing onto Draco's wrist, "something like that. Among other stuff." Then he began to drag his friend down the street, his firm grip letting Draco know that he had no choice now but to follow. Not old enough yet to feel he could defend himself and conditioned to submission, he did just that and didn't look back at Dudley.

"So what is this surprise of yours anyway?" Draco asked as they neared his house, anxious to know what Harry had been keeping from him. Harry looked around the neighborhood quickly as though expecting to find eavesdroppers and gestured with his head toward Draco's front door.

"I'll tell you once we're inside," he told him. "I don't want any Muggles overhearing." That seemed to give the whole thing an air of importance and Draco's eyebrows raised in curiosity. To keep him from asking further questions, Harry grinned and said, "Race you to your room."

It wasn't a very long way to go, but it was enough. Draco's competitive nature picked up and soon the boys were racing toward the door, into the house, and down the hall to Draco's bedroom. Harry won ("Only because you shoved me," Draco was quick to point out as his dark-haired friend gloated) and after several minutes of trying to get Draco to admit that he was the superior athlete, he sat down Indian style on the bed, his friend sitting across from him looking excited.

"So what's the big secret?" he said. "Is it something having to do with your dad's job?" James was an Auror, a position that Draco had always admired, and he always looked forward to Harry's retelling of the adventures his father went on. It gave the Wizarding world as he knew it more of an exciting twist and kept him updated at the same time. Harry, however, shook his head.

"No it's about me." Again, Draco raised a curious eyebrow. "I get to go to Hogwarts!"

_Oh._ A mixture of disappointment in himself and excitement for his friend hit Draco like a punch in the gut. Though he was very happy for Harry - Hogwarts was the one place Draco himself had been excited to explore - that was just another journey that his friend would make without him. He would go to Diagon Alley and buy his robes without Draco there to make him laugh, purchase his books without Draco there to make jokes with, and purchase a wand that Draco would never know how to use anyway. He would board the Hogwarts Express and get Sorted and make all sorts of new friends, and he would learn loads of magic, no doubt. And Draco would remain at Privet Drive with the friends he didn't like, wishing that he got to experience it all too. It was a bittersweet announcement, but he tried to muster up as much happiness for his friend as he could. "That's awesome, Harry," he said, forcing a smile, a skill he had acquired from his mother. "I forgot that, that all started when you turned eleven."

Harry nodded. "It's going to be wicked," he said enthusiastically, and Draco could practically see the happiness pouring from his eyes. "Dad says that I should be getting my letter the day I turn eleven, and then I'll board the train the very next day." Draco again just gave him that fake little smile of his, and Harry's own sincere grin seemed to falter. "I wish you could come, though, mate. I'll write you all the time. Tell you all about it."

Draco gave him a real but sad smile. "You don't have to do that. I don't want to take up your time."

"Don't be such a prat, Draco, writing letters doesn't take that much time." The two exchanged smiles before he continued, "Besides, I still want to hear about all the stupid stuff Dudley does here."

"It's not going to be nearly as exciting as all that stuff you'll learn at Hogwarts, though," Draco said. "My letters are going to seem like rubbish compared to yours."

"Well then lie to me," Harry laughed. "Make them more exciting than they are."

"Then how will I know YOU'RE not lying to ME in your letters?" Draco countered.

"Well, easy," Harry said, in a tone that said that Draco was clearly being stupid. "I don't have anything to lie about. So I won't. If it makes you feel better, every time I do have to lie because a week is boring or something, I'll just write, 'PS - I'm lying,' and you can do the same thing in yours. That way we always know."

The two snickered and then sat together in silence, trying to take in what this year would mean. Though the idea of Draco being a Squib had never seemed to bother Harry before, the two had to get used to the idea that now Harry was going to be encountering people who didn't think it was something that could be ignored. They had to remember for that moment that even if they had this beautiful friendship in that tiny bedroom at number twelve Privet Drive, there were some wizards who thought of Draco as inferior, a freak, a let down to his kind. Harry was about to enter a world where Draco was a freak and Draco had to lie in the world he was in to make people believe he wasn't. Childish innocence, beautiful as it was, could never last. But in that moment, both boys silently wished that it could.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" Draco asked finally as the silence began to weigh down on him. "Mum loves to have you around, and that way you can be here for the wicked breakfast she makes on my birthday."

Harry grinned. "I'll ask Uncle Vernon at dinner."

And with that, the two went back to their friendly banter, discussing the past eleven months and all they would do in the future. They had two months now - two months of childish innocence together instead of just one. Then Harry would be off to Hogwarts to be a Wizard and Draco would have that constant reminder there of his failure, of his shortcomings, no matter how often Harry told him he wasn't any different. Two months of being just kids. And they were going to make the most of them.


	4. Letters from Harry

_Draco,  
>Sorry we had to race out earlier than planned. We'll spend my<br>birthday together next year? Dad says we can't talk to anyone  
>about it, though I wish I could tell you. Just know I'm sorry and<br>that I'll write you as soon as I'm at Hogwarts. Malcolm says hi.  
>- Harry<em>

Draco's birthday had come and passed with little complication. Though it was a relatively small party compared to Dudley's usual bash (Draco had only invited those in his class he wanted to be around, including Dudley, a boy named Aaron who was probably his next closest friend, blond twins who were particularly funny named Arthur and Rachel, and a few others who had been the kindest to Draco throughout the year) it was fun, and he was extremely grateful for all the presents he received. However, he couldn't help but note that at the end of the day, he never got the Hogwarts letter that his friend was so eagerly awaiting. There was never going to be any huge revelation of powers. He was just Draco, and for the first time, it really hit him what this meant. He was practically a Muggle. He wasn't special.

Harry, ever the good friend, was the one to pull him out of it. After everyone had gone home, Harry dragged Draco into his room to give him his final present of the night. It was a Quidditch magazine along with a copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ and the knowledge that there was a floorboard underneath his bed that Harry had discovered was loose when playing hide-and-seek one day. Seeing the moving pictures and illustrations right in front of him again reminded Draco that the Wizarding world was real and that he had once been apart of it, and he had given Harry a large hug in return for his beautiful gifts.

The two still looked forward to the rest of the summer being spent together. However, around the second week of June, something must have gone wrong in the Wizarding world because Harry was taken away in the middle of the night and all Draco had to wake up to was an owl pecking at his window carrying a note from his friend. And so their two months of innocence was cut short.

The only thing Draco had to look forward to in the year now was Harry's letters. His mother tried to console him by saying that she was sure Harry was fine, but it didn't seem to do much good. Harry didn't show up again to go to Dudley's birthday party, and true to his word, he didn't write until he actually arrived at Hogwarts. Draco had never felt so alone.

* * *

><p><em>Draco,<br>This has been a crazy couple of months. It's safe to talk about it now  
>but there were some Dark wizards raising Hell around the Ministry<br>and Dad thought we were in danger. He promised that I could spend  
>the majority of my summer break with you if I spent all my other holidays<br>at home, so we at least have that, right? Everything's fine now, if you  
>were wondering, though. Just a few morons with too much firewhiskey.<br>_

_I'm at Hogwarts now, though! I just got back from the Sorting feast. Guess  
>who's a Ravenclaw! Something about brains, blah blah blah nonsense hat<br>song here...A girl I met on the train, Hermione Granger, is here too. She's  
>weird, but I think you'd like her. She's got the same "don't give me that look<br>Harry Potter" face that you do. Priceless. _

_Again, sorry our summer was cut short. Keep me updated!  
>- Harry<em>

* * *

><p><em>Harry,<br>Ravenclaw? Odd. I always heard that you actually had to be smart  
>to wind up there. I guess there are black sheep everywhere, though.<br>Don't even think of trying to replace me in your heart with somebody  
>named Hermione of all things, though. I will lock you in Dudley's closet<br>if you even dare try._

_Nothing major is going on here, though. We broke out in the third world  
>war and Dud's been drafted, but they turned me away for being too damn<br>awesome. Pretty cool story. Oh and I started school and Rachel got all funny  
>and started asking about you. I think you've got an admirer.<em>

_Mum says you can spend the entire summer here if you want to. Says  
>that she'll write your parents or something. I think she's another admirer<br>of yours, to be quite honest. Tell me all about your classes. I hear Sev is  
>teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. You have GOT to tell me what he<br>is like as a Professor.  
>- Draco<br>PS: the war part was a lie. The Rachel part wasn't. She's gone funny. The  
>closet part wasn't a lie either. I will totally do that if you dare try. Also, Mum<br>says to give her love to Slughorn. Potions master. You don't have to. But she  
>said to tell you anyway.<em>

* * *

><p><em>Draco,<br>An admirer, ay? Obviously she doesn't talk much to Dudley. He's  
>convinced you and I are married, I swear. He's sort of obsessed<br>with the idea...which is creepy. Anyway, she was one of the twins  
>right? Pretty decent. Funny if I remember right. Feed the fire. That<br>could be fun to mess with later._

_Hermione is not even close to replacing you. Even though the way  
>you worded it was pretty queer, mate. She's sort of overbearing to<br>be quite honest with you, but she's okay. I mainly spend my time with  
>Ron Weasley - he's the son of some bloke my mom works with.<br>He's better. More like you but without the inner Malfoy._

_Snape is so weird in the classroom, I swear. He prefers Malcolm  
>by far. Everyone else thinks he's a bit creepy, but he just takes his<br>job seriously. Really seriously. You should tell him to loosen up.  
>I'm gonna tell Malcolm to tell him, too, because he'll scare all the<br>first years next year if he's still like this. Slughorn says hello to your  
>mum and told me something about connections...wanted to know<br>where she was but I didn't say anything. _

_Hope Dud gets hurt in the war. It'll do him some good to be scarred  
>for life.<br>- Harry_

* * *

><p><em>Harry,<br>Don't mess with Rachel, mate, she's a nice girl. I just told  
>her you said 'hey' and she hasn't asked since. sorry. but<br>I wouldn't let you make a game of my friends anyway._

_Queer or not, I'm not being replaced by a person named Hermione.  
>I absolutely refuse. Weasley...Familiar last name. I don't think they're<br>fond of us, whoever they are, though...Mum sort of made this noise  
>when I asked her about them. Is he in Ravenclaw too, then?<em>

_I wrote him to ask about his classes. He says he'll stop being  
>so hard on you guys when you stop being buffoons. I think he<br>is just kidding, though...I can never tell with him. Thanks for not  
>saying anything about where we are...on that note, started hating<br>Squibs yet? I'm curious as to how many people have already put  
>me down for being one...<em>

_The war is still raging on and I'm still awesome. Nothing really  
>happening here...Rach is having a birthday party and wants me<br>and Aaron to go. Asked if you could make it. I've become quite  
>good at lying for you.<br>- Draco_

* * *

><p>"For the last time," Draco said as he walked toward an empty space among the tables for lunch, Rachel close by his side, "Harry really can't make it to your party. I talked to him and things are pretty crazy...Family reunion and all."<p>

"But Dudley said he could go," Rachel argued back, setting her tray down and sitting across from Draco, who just waved the comment away. "They're related, aren't they?"

"On his mom's side, yeah. But the reunion is for his dad's side of the family. They, uh, don't get along."

Rachel had been going like this since she first invited Draco to her birthday party. If she wasn't bothering him about if he was sure he was going to show up, she was trying to harass him into making Harry go, something that he couldn't do even if he wanted to. Harry was at Hogwarts - Draco would have to wait until summer to see him again and he refused to share him with anyone else if he did happen to see him beforehand. Something about the idea just...displeased him. Especially with Rachel, who got a certain shining look in her eyes whenever she said Harry's name.

"Just leave him alone, Rach," Aaron said, taking his spot on Draco's right. "If Harry could make it, I'm sure Drake would say so."

'Drake'. Draco tried not to cringe at the nickname. During his first day of school six years ago, he had been teased relentlessly for his rather odd name. To try and normalize him in their minds, the kids had resorted to calling him Drake and he hadn't been able to shake the abbreviation since. It was stuck to him, like gum to the bottom of the dirty tables they used in the school. He had to admit, though, it was growing on him. It was like a clear distinction between when he was talking to people from the Wizarding world and when he was talking to Muggles. To his mother, the Potters, and anyone else they kept in contact with, he was Draco. To the Muggles, he was Drake. And despite the fact that he was practically a Muggle himself, it was nice to have something, one little thing, to distinguish himself from them.

"That's right," he said, taking a bite of the chicken they were trying to feed them like it was supposed to taste real. "If Potter could make it, I'd have already invited him. So please - hush."

And she did. Though Draco wasn't magical by wizard standards, he did have a way with people that made his commands almost impossible to resist. If he wanted you to stop talking, you did it. If he wanted you to fetch something for him, you did that too, and you never really knew why. When he spoke to people, they were just compelled to listen. His teachers said he had 'charisma', but he always secretly hoped that it was just the magic he was supposed to have finally shining through. Then he'd remember that his eleventh birthday had already come and passed and that it was pointless for him to even dream about it.

"If it helps," Draco said, "I'll write to him about it and see where it goes from there. But he'll probably just tell you to stop being ridiculous, like I've been saying for the past week." Rachel just gave him a shining smile, and Draco rolled his eyes. The things he did to fit in.

* * *

><p><em>Draco,<br>Sorry I haven't written in a while. A lot has gone on since my last  
>letter. To answer your last questions, though, no Ron isn't in<br>Ravenclaw, he's in Gryffindor. I won't bother Rachel and thanks for  
>lying for me, though I wish you didn't have to. And to be quite<br>honest, Draco, I haven't had a chance to talk about you...But  
>I told you before, being a Squib is no big deal. Our kind really<br>don't care. I think it's just your dad..._

_Anyway, guess what. I'M ON THE RAVENCLAW QUIDDITCH TEAM!  
>Yeah some prat named Goyle was harassing this kid during flying<br>lessons so I tried to put him in his place. I thought I was busted for  
>sure when I got pulled away from lessons but turns out they just want<br>me to be their Seeker. Isn't that wicked? I thought you'd be really  
>excited to hear, since you love Quidditch and all. I wish you could<br>come see me play...Maybe I could ask. I want you to see the castle  
>and meet Ron and Hermione anyway.<em>

_How was Rachel's party? If it's happened yet...I'm too lazy to  
>find your other letters to check. Did you have fun? Did Mal<br>drop by? He hasn't written me in a while but I asked him to go  
>in my place so you weren't too bored.<em>

_Hogwarts is wicked, mate. Wish you were here. You'd have a blast.  
>I've got loads to show you when I get back to Privet Drive. (By the way<br>I don't know if you've heard but Mum says I can stay at your place  
>all summer. Do you think your mum would be okay with Ron visiting?<br>I really want you guys to meet.) Can't wait to see you. Tell me more about  
>the war. I'm curious.<br>- Harry_

* * *

><p><em>Harry,<br>Yeah, Rachel's party was about a week ago. It was okay. She  
>wouldn't leave me and Mal alone, though. Aaron says she fancies<br>me. I think he's mental, really. Thanks for sending Malcolm, though.  
>It was nice to see at least one of you.<em>

_Oh, I didn't realize that I never came up in conversation...but I don't  
>know, Harry. Mum said I had to leave to Privet Drive because of bad<br>reactions to Squibs. Are you sure it's not that big of a deal?_

_The Quidditch team? As a first year? Mum says that's really  
>rare. Congrats, mate! I don't think Hogwarts takes visitors like<br>Muggle schools do...Maybe if I went with your parents? Get back  
>to me because I really do want to see you play. And as a Seeker<br>too! When's your first game?_

_Mum says other wizards visiting wouldn't be smart...but I can meet  
>him if I end up going to your match. Nothing good on the war front,<br>mate. But I'll keep you posted.  
>- Draco<em>

* * *

><p><em>Draco,<br>Hate to cut this short but it's late and practice wore me out.  
>Our first match is next Tuesday. Mum says she'll pick you up<br>so you can watch. Already wrote to your mum. Can't wait to  
>see you.<br>- Harry_

* * *

><p>Draco's first look of Hogwarts was in a carriage. After arriving around Hogwarts' general location ("We couldn't just travel right into the grounds," James had explained. "That would break safety precautions and all of that.") they moved from the train platform into horseless carriages that he suspected the headmaster had supplied for guests coming in to watch the match. They were beautiful, magical, and Draco wish he knew what sort of spell made them move on their own like they did. In fact, he was so transfixed by the carriages themselves that it took Malcolm tugging on his sleeve to realize that Hogwarts was now in view. "Check it out," the younger Potter brother said, pointing out the window. There, Draco could see the high walls of the castle, the ancient architecture and beautiful towers that he had tried to imagine in his mind over and over again. What he had drawn up in his imagination was nothing compared to the real thing. He found his mouth hanging open in awe. The Manor he grew up in was extravagant and beautiful in it's own way, but compared to Hogwarts, it was like a dungeon. A dark, dirty dungeon that no one bothered to take care of. He had never seen a more beautiful place before in his life. "Welcome to Hogwarts," James said quietly, seemingly amused at the young blond's amazement. The only proper response that Draco would manage was, "Wicked."<p>

His amazement only grew as they entered the actual school grounds. Hogwarts had the greenest grass that Draco had ever seen, and even the lake seemed to sparkle in a way that was surreal. All the kids on the grounds were headed toward a large Quidditch stadium and they were dressed in uniform - black robes with a white shirt and tie and either slacks or a skirt. Draco had never, ever wanted so badly to cast aside the nice clothes his mother had bought him in exchange for something so normal. He had never wanted to be a part of something as badly as he wanted to be a part of that group.

He stepped out of the carriage slowly, wanting to savor every first glance he took at the grounds. He never thought he'd be here. He never thought that he would step foot on the grass like he was doing then, never thought he'd be able to view the castle, never thought they'd let him through the gates. But here he was - standing in the middle of the grounds surrounded by everything Hogwarts had to offer up. He could see how Harry kept too busy to write now. If he attended this school, he'd never be able to sit down long enough to write a letter.

"Come on," James said, resting a hand on Draco's shoulder to steer him toward the crowd. "It's beautiful and all, but if we want to be able to see the game, we should try to snag good seats."

Game. Seats. Quidditch. Right - that's what they were there for. Harry was the youngest Seeker to be on a House team in a century and they were there to cheer him on. Somehow Draco had allowed this to slip his mind but the promise of seeing his friend on the field was enough inspiration to get him moving again, James' hand still firmly gripping his shoulder so that he didn't lose him in the crowd.

The stadium was even more beautiful than the castle. Draco had never been near an actual Quidditch field before, and pictures didn't even come close to the real thing. He surveyed the area critically with his eyes, taking in the green grass, the high hoops, the stands, all the students sitting there anxiously awaiting the game, split almost perfectly down in the middle in who was supporting which side. He could see a woman with a whistle who could only be the referee standing at the edge of the field, waiting, and he wanted to stare at her long enough to see who the captains were when they came out, but James was ushering him up into the stands soon enough and he had to tear his eyes away from the beautiful field.

"I think there's an empty space up there next to Albus," Lily was saying to James when Draco turned back to them. "I hope he didn't save those for us, I told him special treatment wasn't necessary..."

"You know how good old Dumbledore is, though, Lils. He can't resist the opportunity to be courteous."

It took a second before Draco realized who they were talking about. _Albus Dumbledore_. The man who dueled Grindelwald back in the day and won, bringing the end of the Dark age. The man who was rumored to be the most powerful wizard in the world. They were talking about _that_ Dumbledore...and he had supposedly saved seats for them! He looked up with Mr. and Mrs. Potter with a newfound respect, and Lily smiled down at him. "Well then we must be courteous too," she said to her husband. Then to Draco, "How would you like to meet Albus Dumbledore?" His eyes widened, and she laughed. "I promise, he's very kind. Come, I'll introduce you two."

He glanced nervously at Malcolm, who reassured him with a touch on the elbow as they walked through the stands. "Dumbledore used to visit a lot when we were little," he said quietly, probably trying to reassure his friend. "He really is nice."

"Yeah?" Draco murmured quietly. "How does he feel about Squibs then?" Malcolm, not knowing the answer and not wanting to lie, remained quiet.

"Albus!" Lily called happily as they approached an old man with a long white beard and even longer white hair. "Albus, I do hope you didn't go against my wishes and save seats for us."

"Alas, Lily, that is exactly what I seem to have done," the man replied, a twinkle in his eye behind his half-moon spectacles. "I hope you are not too furious with me."

"We're not going to pass up good Quidditch seats and you know it," James said with a laugh. He grabbed onto Draco's shoulder again to give it a comforting squeeze and the action drew Dumbledore's attention to the young blond. He smiled politely but nervously and quickly averted his eyes to the ground as he had learned to do at a young age around wizards of power.

"I see you were able to bring young Draco to watch," Dumbledore then said, and Draco raised his head, surprised. "Splendid." He then patted the space next to him and said, "Sit down, please, sit down." They did, the Potters insisting that Draco take the spot immediately next to Dumbledore. His heart pounded as he looked up into the kind, smiling face and he looked out toward the field quickly so he didn't seem to be staring. In a matter of minutes, he had arrived at Hogwarts, stepped onto his first Quidditch field, and met the most powerful wizard in the world. How many people got to say that in their lifetime?

"So, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said suddenly, and Draco turned his gaze back to him, "I hear that you and our good friend Mr. Potter have become rather...close since your evacuation." Draco raised his eyebrows curiously, but didn't say a word for fear of it sounding rude. How did he know anything about him? "Ah, you must be wondering," the old man continued, "how I knew these things, correct?" The young boy nodded. "Well, it seems your friend has a particular...fondness for trouble. Not unlike his father." The both took that moment to look at James, who had his arm around Malcolm and a wide grin on his face as he began to explain everything about the field to his youngest son. "As for your evacuation," Dumbledore went on to say, "I make it a habit to watch over the safety of every family I've ever encountered. And after hearing your father's small rampage, I don't think anyone in the Wizarding world could forget that you and your mother left." He said this with a smile and an air of amusement, as though it was supposed to be something funny. But Draco's stomach just turned unpleasantly at the thought of his angry father. Seeming to sense this, Dumbledore leaned in and said, "He is not allowed on Hogwarts grounds, Mr. Malfoy. He cannot hurt you under my watch." Draco just blinked at him, lost as to what to say. It was then that Dumbledore turned away from him and said simply, "I think we should be getting started any minute now."

He was right. Just moments after the words escaped the esteemed wizard's mouth, the two teams stepped out onto the field. The referee instructed the captains to shake hands, said she wanted a nice clean game, and then they were off. Draco searched the skies for his friend as the game started, smiling brightly when he saw the familiar bespectacled face. He was flying much higher than most people on the field, circling the pitch as the Chasers below began to toss the Quaffle back and forth. Somewhere, someone was doing commentary but Draco was getting lost as to who was who so he decided to just block it out and try to figure it out for himself. It was a lot slower than professional Quidditch games, but he supposed that was expected. The playing wasn't much tamer, though. The Ravenclaw beaters were positively ruthless, seemingly trying to calculate exactly where the Bludgers would hit if hurt a certain way and Draco guessed they never missed a target as they hit other players in the arm, back, and even head with ease. The Chasers flew superbly, and their teamwork was absolutely stunning. They worked hard to corner anyone with the Quaffle and it wasn't long until they had gotten a hold of themselves, tossing it back and forth, flying in a V and confusing the Keeper until...

"_Ravenclaw scores!"_

Draco cheered along with the rest of the crowd as Dumbledore clapped politely next to him.

Good as the Ravenclaw team was, though, the team they were playing - Hufflepuff, Draco soon realized - was good as well. They didn't have the strategic moves that Ravenclaw did, but they did have a pretty nasty habit of ruining said strategies. The Ravenclaws seemed to expect the Hufflepuffs to react in a certain way, and if they happened to change the course of the game, a flicker of annoyance could be seen passing over each Ravenclaw Chaser's face. The match of skill made for a very interesting match, and Draco found himself developing a respect for both Houses throughout the course of the game. However, the real spectacle to watch was obviously Harry. Though the boy was just eleven years old, he looked as comfortable in the sky as anyone else on the team. He circled and dodged Bludgers, flew in large but carefully planned circles so he could survey every inch of the field, and even the Hufflepuff Seeker had taken to watching Harry as well as the field in case his younger opponent was able to spot the Snitch first. Draco felt himself swell with pride for his friend, and he had to remind himself several times that there was a game going on other than where Harry was so he could keep up with what was happening in the game.

"_Hufflepuff scores! The score is now 50-30, Ravenclaw!_"

50-30. _Not hard to recover from at all,_ Draco thought to himself, _unless Harry grabs the Snitch_. It was as though his thought was the spark Harry needed. Very suddenly, his friend took off toward the ground, attracting the attention of everyone in the stands. The Hufflepuff Seeker, alerted by the noise all around him, took off after him, but even Draco knew that this was in vain. Harry was going _fast_, faster than anyone else in the game had dared go so far. He swerved around the goal posts, tried to avoid players as the Snitch raced through the middle of the court, and finally followed it up in a bit of a spiral and then-

"_Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Ravenclaw wins!_"

Draco had never cheered so loudly before in his life - he had never done _anything_ loudly before in his life. But his friend's victory filled him with such an intense pride that he couldn't help but jump up in excitement. Harry landed on the field only to be swallowed by the cheering mass that was his teammates, and Draco watched happily as his friend received praise after praise after praise as they shuffled into the locker rooms once more. Draco was still cheering excitedly, but quieted once the teams disappeared from the field. People were now leaving the stands, excited to go and celebrate, and Draco turned with shining eyes to Malcolm, who looked as excited as he did. "If you two want to see Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said from behind them, "I'm sure he would not be upset to see you waiting for him on the field." That was all the boys needed to hear. They scurried off together as the adults laughed, remembering what it was like to be young and witness their first Quidditch game.

"I've never seen flying like that before," Draco said excitedly, as he and Mal pushed through the crowds. "Harry must have had loads of practice before..."

"He was always flying around the house," Malcolm said, "but Mum never let him do anything like that. Did you see that _dive_?"

The two carried on like this all the way down to the field, talking about the highlights of the game and where they thought the two teams went wrong. They didn't stop until Draco was suddenly tackled to the ground, his breath leaving him under the weight of one Harry Potter.

"That's revenge for this summer," he said, a mischievous grin on his face, and Draco laughed as he pushed against his friend.

"Get off me, you prat," he said, giving up on pushing and grabbing his arms to try and turn them over. "I know you're happy to see me but _get off_ so I can congratulate you properly."

"Never!" Harry laughed out, still high on the adrenaline rush from the game, and the two wrestled for a moment before Draco was able to overpower his friend and pin his shoulders to the ground.

"I win," he announced simply, panting slightly for breath and Harry smiled at him, chest heaving slightly in the same way. Then Draco pulled away from him, extending a hand to pull his friend up and into a tight hug.

"I can't believe you're here!" Harry said finally, letting go of his friend and turning to hug his brother. "Either one of you. I mean, Dumbledore said you guys could come but..."

But he didn't know if Draco's mum would be okay with it. Yeah - he knew. Draco, himself, was a little surprised that she had let him go, too, but he supposed that she had spoken to Dumbledore about his father before giving him the okay to go. "I wouldn't miss a Quidditch match for the world," the blond said, picking grass from his shirt while the brothers said their hellos. "That was some wicked flying out there, mate. I'd say Ravenclaw made a good choice."

Harry smiled brightly at the compliment, but the moment between the two friends was suddenly interrupted as a girl with a mane of bushy brown hair pushed past Draco to throw her arms around Harry in a hug. "You did it!" she was saying excitedly. "Oh Harry, I was so scared; that dive looked terrifying! Ron was absolutely shaking, weren't you, Ron?" She turned to address a red-haired boy who had just walked up behind them, and Draco watched as the boy's pale cheeks flushed.

"I was not _shaking_," he said, "I was cheering. I knew Harry could pull off that dive." The bushy-haired girl just gave him a knowing look before turning her gaze to Draco and Malcolm.

"Oh," she said simply, "I didn't realize you had other company, Harry." Draco was almost ninety percent certain this was a lie, as if she had been watching to see when Harry was coming out, she would have seen him getting tackled. But he excused her rudeness - some people just simply didn't have social skills.

Harry, however, didn't seem to notice. He just slung his arm around Draco's shoulder and said, "Guys, this is Draco Malfoy. You know, my friend from Privet Drive. Draco, this is Ron and Hermione. I told you about them in my letters." Indeed. Draco's eyes surveyed Hermione carefully, from the bushy hair to the large front teeth displayed clearly when she grinned on him, and when he deemed her not too much of a threat, he allowed himself to smile back. Then his gaze turned to Ron, who looked weedy and a bit disheveled but not hostile. He held out his hand and said, "Pleasure to meet you," as they each shook it in turn. The process was then repeated with Malcolm, who greeted Ron like an old friend, and Harry's arm never left where it sat comfortably across Draco's shoulder.

"Well it was very nice to finally meet the both of you," Hermione said. "Harry never stops talking about you two, especially you Draco. It's always 'Oh me and Draco this and that,' and it was ever so annoying to hear about it all without knowing you."

Harry flushed from next to him and Draco gave him a teasing smile. "Oh really?" he said. "And I thought you didn't get much of a chance to talk about me, Potter."

"I meant to everyone, you prat," Harry replied, dropping his arm. "Of course I'd tell Ron and Hermione." The simple statement made Draco glow again and he turned his attention to Harry's friends.

"I've heard a little bit about you two, as well," he said. "As much as I could get from Harry's poorly written letters."

"Hey!"

"I'm serious, Potter, it wouldn't kill you to work on your penmanship."

Ron mumbled something that sounded oddly like, "He's right, you know," as Hermione snickered behind her hand. Malcolm just bit his lip in an attempt to hide a smile. Harry looked around at the group with an exaggerated look of offense displayed on his features.

"Oh sod off, all of you," he said, putting his hands on his hips, and Draco laughed when he suddenly saw the Dursley-like habits that his friend had picked up.

"Write it legibly, Harry, then we'll think about following," Draco said and Ron snorted as Hermione turned away from the group to smile.

"I will tackle you again, Draco Malfoy. Watch yourself." It wasn't much of a threat and they knew it. The five of them suddenly burst out laughing, as though Harry tackling Draco was the funniest thing they had ever heard in their entire lives. They laughed for what felt like hours until suddenly all the tension between them had broken and they no longer felt like strangers. It was funny, what a good laugh could change.

"Are you staying here long then, Draco?" Hermione asked suddenly. "I didn't know Hogwarts took visitors."

"I didn't know either to be honest," he replied. "Harry's parents just offered and I accepted. I don't think we're staying long, though. Mr. and Mrs. Potter don't like to intrude."

"So you're not going to stay to celebrate or anything?" Ron asked.

Draco shrugged. "I guess not."

Hermione and Ron both looked rather disappointed, but Harry just bumped into him with his shoulder. "We'll make up for it by having bloody awesome birthday parties this summer," he joked, and they all laughed at that and went on to discuss the game, Hermione talking about the dangerous aspects while Draco and Ron told her to sod off and talked excitedly about the more dangerous plays. Malcolm cut in every now and then and it wasn't long until Draco felt more accepted in that group than he ever did at his school back in Surrey.

* * *

><p><em>Harry,<br>You were right - Ron and Hermione are great. I'll try  
>to convince mum to let them visit, but no promises.<br>She's a bit uptight about it all._

_Hogwarts is wicked. Keep us posted on Quidditch  
>match dates. Mum might actually go to one next<br>time! Don't get too cocky and hurt yourself during  
>practice. I don't think they could find a Seeker<br>good enough to replace you._

_The war is over. Dudley survived. Pity.  
>- Draco<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: The important parts of this story are not when Harry is at Hogwarts and Draco isn't. Most of these next chapters will be mainly letters between Harry and Draco and little snippets like the ones here, explaining the summer and more important events that are happening. I'm sorry to those who wanted Draco to get his letter for his birthday! But I liked the Squib idea and stuck with it. (: I'm a cheater, though. I found a way to get him to Hogwarts anyway. I hope you enjoyed this. And yes, Harry is in Ravenclaw for a specific reason but it's too long for me to explain here. Just know that it isn't a mistake and it was, in fact, well thought out. Thanks for reading. xo.**  
><strong>


	5. Breakfast

_His weight wasn't unpleasant. It wasn't like he was crushing him; it was more like a friendly embrace, like a reminder that he was there and he wasn't going to be moving. But heavier than that. More permanent. Like any force in the world wouldn't be enough to remove him, just like the first day they met when nothing could have made him let go of his sleeve. He pressed his hips into Draco's, hands pinning his back slightly above his head, that dominant little smirk he always got plastered onto his features. Draco squirmed just enough to make himself comfortable, but he didn't fight it. He didn't fight him. Again, the feeling wasn't so bad and when he pressed his hips down ever so slightly..._

_A small gasp and then noise of contentment came from Draco's throat as dark eyelashes played across his cheek, lips caressing the sensitive areas of his skin. He dared not move, dared not to breathe, dared not do anything that could disturb them, that could make this feeling stop. And then he heard it, the word's spoken with familiar mischievousness and brand new tenderness. _

_"I win."_

* * *

><p>He awoke with a start, sweat beginning to appear on his brow. He glanced to his left, where he saw Harry's hand dangling from his bed, like there always had to be at least one part of him not restrained by the blankets. Draco wiped his forehead, wondering what in the world had just happened. It wasn't unusual for him to have dreams about Harry - going to Hogwarts with him, flying, time they would spend together, even simple nightmares in which his friend got hurt playing Quidditch. Those were normal, and if Draco could remember his dreams at all, they usually had something to do with his friend. But a dream like <em>that<em>? That had never happened before - not with Harry, not with anybody. His stomach lurched as he made the image reappear for a slight second to consider. It wasn't an unpleasant image, no, but that was not a dream that he should have been having. Not while Harry was sleeping at his house.

He groaned when he realized that this problem wasn't going to go away. The room was definitely warmer, and he had to focus on unpleasant things to cool the fire now burning in his core. He knew this was going to happen one day - it was part of growing up, and he could still remember with mortification the day that Severus had dropped by their house (by Narcissa's request, no doubt) in order to give him a nice talk about the birds and the bees. But the thing about it was that Sev had said with certainty that dreams like that would happen...about a girl. A girl like Rachel, who had taken to tagging along with Draco everywhere the day of his birthday party, giving everyone around him the wrong impression. Sev didn't say if dreaming about a _guy_ was normal, but...Draco couldn't control his dreams. Those just happened - they weren't real and didn't hold any insight into his personal life. They were just...silly, make believe things that happened in his sleep. He had to believe that. He had to.

Harry stirred next to him, hand twitching as he mumbled nonsensically in his sleep. Draco jumped and tried not to focus on how Harry's hands had felt on his wrists, how the pressure of him had been distributed just _so_ and-

He blinked in the darkness. No. _No_ he was _not_ going to think about that dream anymore. Draco sat up, careful to be quiet. A glance around the room had his eyes settling on his alarm clock, which read 6:38 in the morning. Okay - so he'd have to get up a little earlier than planned. That was fine, brilliant. He just couldn't stay in a room with Harry anymore, not with that fire still burning strong within him. He stood and decided to head into the kitchen to get a glass of ice water. That would cool him down. That would get his mind off...events. Draco swallowed. He knew growing up wasn't something fun, but he had no idea it would be anything like this.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Draco." Harry came walking down the hall, wiping the sleep from his eyes, to see his friend standing at the stove, a spatula in hand. "I didn't realize you were prone to playing housewife."<p>

Draco, not wanting to be distracted from the pancakes he was making, just threw an oven mitt in Harry's general direction, hoping to god that it hit. Judging by Harry's snorting from the doorway, it didn't. "I cook sometimes if I'm up before Mum is," he said. "But if you have a problem with that, you can go without pancakes."

"No, no," Harry said quickly, yawning and sitting down at the table. "I don't have any problems with it at all. I was just...wondering where you were."

Draco tensed. Did Harry know about his dream? Was he really awake when Draco thought he had been sleeping? He used the pancakes as his distraction for a while, flipping them with care and taking an extra amount of time to do so. "I just had a...weird dream," he said finally, still focused on the stove and refusing to turn around. "It woke me up, and I figured it was late enough to start on breakfast."

And start he had. Not only had he fried eggs and made bacon before starting on the pancakes, but he had sat in the kitchen for at least an hour hand squeezing orange juice just to get his mind off of his dream. He knew that if he asked his mom when she woke up, she could have just used magic to get it done in an instant, but when he was thoroughly scared or disturbed or upset, there was nothing like being in the kitchen to calm his nerves. If it meant that he had to squeeze oranges for an hour, then so be it. He didn't tell Harry this, though. He'd let him think that he had only been up for a few minutes as opposed to hours.

"Well have dreams like that more often then," Harry said, the amusement in his voice apparent, and Draco nearly choked on his own breath. "I like waking up to food. It's a good way to start the morning."

"Don't get used to it, Potter," Draco said, praying that his voice remain steady. "One of these days, you're going to wake up before me and _then_ what are you going to do?"

"Pounce on you until you wake up, probably."

This time Draco really did start coughing at the sudden intake of breath, and Harry raised a curious eyebrow. "All right there, mate?"

"Yeah," Draco said, looking for a plate to put the fully cooked pancakes on. "I just...swallowed wrong." Harry laughed and his cheeks burned. This really couldn't carry on. He would just have to...forget it. Forget the dream. After all, it wasn't any indication of real life at all. Hadn't he just spent three hours making breakfast to convince himself of this? He just had to act natural and forget that he ever had the dream at all. It would be easy, right? Right.

"There's bacon and eggs on the counter if you want them," Draco told his friend as he started to remove the hotcakes from the heat. Harry immediately jumped up from the table to where Draco had gestured, too grateful for the thoroughness of his friend to make a joke about the three plates already laid out with the food equally distributed on them. He even smiled as he prodded the bacon on his plate, arranged so that it was in the shape of the letter 'H'. Draco's perfectionist habits were annoying to live with sometimes, but when it came to breakfast, he wasn't going to complain. "And there's orange juice in the fridge," Draco added as he heard a plate being set on the hardwood of their kitchen table. "Yours is in the blue cup."

"Blue for Ravenclaw?" Harry asked, and Draco turned off the stove, nodding as he turned on his heel to walk toward the table. "You are so..."

"Amazing?" Draco teased, setting the pancakes in the middle of the table. "Perfect? I know."

"I was going to say mental," Harry teased, reaching for the food in front of him. "But whatever floats your boat."

Draco just smiled back before grabbing his plate and starting on his own breakfast. Now all he had to do was keep his dreams under control for the rest of the time Harry was there. Then there would be nothing to be embarrassed about. Easy.

"I could marry you right now," Harry said, nearly growing in contentment as he took a bite of breakfast. "I really could. Malcolm will be _pissed_ when he hears he missed out on this..." He let out another low moan and Draco swallowed harshly, nearly causing himself to choke again.

Right. Easy.

* * *

><p><em>Draco,<br>One day I'll convince Mum and Dad to let me stay passed my birthday.  
>One day. In the meantime, that one month before school is seriously the<br>longest month of the year. I have to do boring homework and shopping  
>instead of being on Privet Drive. Lame.<em>

_Finally back at school, though! I guess that makes it better. Ron and 'Mione  
>say hello. Kept asking all about our summer. I conveniently forgot to mention<br>that little fiasco with the mud and my aunt? Yeah - you owe me._

_The Sorting feast is really boring from the other end, let me tell you.  
>We got a few new Ravenclaws but they all looked so terrified that<br>I couldn't try to befriend them. I was afraid they'd run away and then  
>Dumbledore would get mad that I was chasing away first years...<em>

_Anyway, get back to me. You haven't answered my letters in a while.  
>Is everything okay? How's your mum? Just busy?<br>- Harry_

* * *

><p>Busy wasn't the proper word for what Draco was. Distracted would have been a better fit. Or confused. Or maybe even annoyed. His persistent dreams hadn't died down at all during the summer (Harry didn't even care to ask about them as long as he got his breakfast, thank <em>Merlin<em>) and even after Harry left, they just got worse. It got to the point that he finally wrote Severus asking if the dreams would ever die down, but even he didn't get back to him right away, as apparently he was taking the time to settle into Hogwarts just like the boy in Draco's dream. So he was left without guidance, without Harry, and without anything to keep his friend out of his dreams. And to make it worse, he was beginning to suspect that it wasn't just _Harry_ that he had taken a fancy to. Now, in the Wizarding world that wouldn't be such a big deal; blokes liking blokes and girls liking girls wasn't a huge deal there. But every time the thought hit Draco, he could only think of a conversation he'd had with Aaron.

"Is it normal, you think, for blokes to dream about...other blokes?" He had interjected the question in the middle of Aaron's complaining about his own distracting dreams, and his friend raised his eyebrows.

"Why?" he'd asked, his tone bordering on being a bit disgusted. "You haven't been...you haven't been dreaming about blokes, have you?"

"N-No, not me," Draco had lied, noticing a hostile tone when he heard one. "A friend of mine. Harry."

Aaron had looked at him suspiciously before accepting this as the truth and relaxing. "I always had a funny feeling about him," he said. "No, mate, hate to say it but your friend sounds a little...well, a little queer to me. And I don't just mean in the off sort of way." Draco's stomach had twisted as he realized that _queer_ was meant to be taken as an insult and he hadn't brought the subject up around his friends again. It wasn't worth the rejection to even bother.

That mixed with a lack of his friend and no response from the only man he could consider a father figure frustrated the young blond and he found himself not wanting to _do_ anything, especially not write back to Harry. Not when it would just make the situation that much worse. But when he got his friend's letter asking why he hadn't written...he felt so _guilty_, so upset. He knew he had to write back. He just had to suck it up and write.

_Harry,  
>Sorry mate! It's been a ridiculous couple of months. Aaron's been<br>taking up a lot of my time. Birthday planning. Trying to hook him up  
>with Rachel so she'll get off my back. All that. Didn't mean to forget<br>to write. Just sorta happened._

_Tell Ron and Hermione that I say hi. Thanks for sparing them from  
>having to hear THAT story. It was mortifying enough the first time.<br>When I see them during Quidditch season, I don't want to have to  
>put up with awkward stares...<em>

_Don't scare the ickle first years, Potter. Come on now. Have more  
>self-control than that. They'll probably loosen up once they get settled<br>in. Not all of them can be fearless like great big second year HP.  
>- Draco<br>PS: You left one of your ties here. You're never getting it back.  
>Deal with it.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I know, I know, I need to butt out. But the reason this chapter is so short is because the only important thing that happened in this year was that Draco started going through puberty. I could do a bunch from Harry's PoV about how Ravenclaw won the Quidditch Cup but lost the House Cup to Slytherin (again) and how his own dreams about Draco started but were combined with fantasies of the Gryffindor Quidditch captain and everything like that. But then the fic wouldn't be from Draco's PoV anymore, now would it? Maybe after this is done I'll rewrite is as the newly arrogant but still lovable Harry James Potter, but until then, here is my note explaining why this chapter is 1/3 the size of the previous ones. If it helps, fun stuff happens in the next chapter that I hope makes up for this one. Until then, I hope you enjoyed. xo. PS - if Draco's dreams keep going like that, I may have to change the rating next chapter. If there are any objections, speak now and I'll keep it tame. Or as tame as I can. Thanks!


	6. Cedric

_He was walking around the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts again. He had been there what felt like a million times by that point, but it never failed to amaze him. The grass, the fresh air, the stands all around that were usually filled with cheering and adoring fans...He couldn't imagine what it was like to actually play there, to have people want to watch. Those on their House Quidditch teams were so lucky. They got to live out a fantasy that Draco would never get to achieve. Not even in his dreams..._

_He paused in the middle of the field, taking it all in. It must be glorious to play there. Harry was so lucky...And then as if by magic, Harry was there, hands resting comfortably on Draco's hips as he looked around the pitch with him. Draco leaned backwards into his touch, savoring the feeling he got as every single one of his senses was stimulated. Harry, who Draco already far surpassed in height, was able to rest his head comfortably on his shoulder as they looked around as one unit, saw the same sights, felt the same feelings. Draco hardly noticed as Harry fiddled with the button on his jeans or how warm his hands felt as they crept beneath his waistband; he was too busy tasting the sweet air, hearing the wonderful sounds, feeling Harry all around him as he took in the familiar scent of his deodorant. And then he was touching him, really touching him in the most intimate of ways and Draco let out a satisfied moan as Harry whispered in his ear, told him declarations of love, of want, of _desire_, and Draco couldn't handle it because he was not worthy, not worthy of it in any way at all..._

_And then it all shifted. His dad was marching up to them, bringing darkness and storm clouds with him, and he grabbed hold of Draco's arm, calling him _queer_ and _squib_ and other foul names. Harry tried to get him to back off, but with a flick of his wand, Harry fell, lifeless like a rag doll. Draco cried out, screamed for his dad to stop but he wouldn't, he never did. And then with one twist of his hand-_

Draco woke with a start, crying and cradling his arm, sweat pooling around him for a different reason than it usually was these days. He took a few moments to regain himself, to remind himself that his father couldn't touch him, that he couldn't be hurt now, but even then he couldn't stop sobbing, and he silently thanked whatever higher power was out there that Harry didn't show up to spend the summer with him until later that day.

* * *

><p>"You look like Hell, mate," Harry told Draco the second they got time alone together. Since the two had become friends, they had always been one hundred percent honest with one another, but at that moment, Draco wanted nothing more than Harry to lie to him for once. It wasn't helping matters to have the guy he'd been fantasizing about telling him he looked disgusting, no matter how close the two were. "Have you been sleeping okay? Those dreams still aren't keeping you awake, are they?"<p>

Oh, Harry didn't even know the half of it. After the dream about his father had woken him up, Draco had been too afraid to even attempt to drift back to sleep. He'd gone out to the kitchen, but with it just being him and his mum, there was no reason to cook a feast, and so breakfast only took up a few hours of his time. He'd spent the rest of his time waiting for Harry watching TV and trying not to let the sounds of his favorite shows lull him back to sleep. He didn't want to dream anymore. Not if he was going to wake up shaken and sweaty no matter who it was about. Draco shrugged off Harry's comment now, though, and didn't reply. He didn't really know what to say.

"Draco, you know you have to sleep, right?" The concern in Harry's voice was enough to bring a lump to Draco's throat, but still, he said nothing. He didn't want to talk about his dreams. He didn't want to talk about the things that he'd either never have or didn't want. He didn't want to think about them or acknowledge that they existed. He just wanted to hang out and forget all the things that haunted him in his dreams_. _Luckily, Harry seemed to catch onto this and he didn't press the matter anymore, but he kept giving Draco concerned glances throughout the day, as if he was afraid the boy would pass out on him. To be quite honest, Draco was very surprised that he didn't.

* * *

><p><em>Dearest Draco,<br>I'm going to start all my letters like that now. I think it  
>pisses you off, and that brings me satisfaction. So there.<em>

_Interesting year so far. Sorry it took me so long to respond to  
>your last few letters. Are you still sick? Need me to send Mum<br>down with a 'special' remedy? She knows some Healers so it's  
>really no problem. Let me know.<em>

_There something I really want to talk to you about. Mum says  
>that she sort of wants to spend Christmas with the Dursleys<br>this year...do you mind if I drop by? I mean I don't want to like  
>intrude on your Christmas or anything. I just want to talk to<br>you about something and I think it'd be better to do it face to  
>face, y'know? Again - let me know.<em>

_Also, Ron says 'hey' and wonders why you weren't at the last  
>game. We absolutely creamed Hufflepuff! If you were sick, I<br>understand but I'm curious, too. Will you be at the next one?_

_Miss you. Write back soon.  
>- Harry<em>

* * *

><p><em>My dearest poufer,<br>Why must you address me in such a manner in letters? Mum  
>is beginning to think there's something wrong with you. She<br>now double checks my letters for love notes. Little does she  
>know that I hide those under my bed. (Seriously, though? Why?<br>Why do you do this to me?)_

_Yeah I missed the match because I was sick and your mum was  
>actually the one who outright refused to take me because I was<br>such a mess. Pity - Mal wrote me and told me it was a good game.  
>Kept me updated. Organized little bugger, that brother of yours.<br>I'll be at the next game, though, definitely. I'm all better now so there's  
>no need to send your mum. She'll just fuss over me and my own<br>mum does enough of that. Tell Ron I said hello, though._

_Christmas? At my house? I think you're just looking for an excuse  
>to have my mum's amazing cooking. Understandable. I don't know<br>how I keep this amazing physique with all the stuff she feeds me. Uh  
>she said she doesn't have a problem with it as long as it's just y'know<br>you're family. No Weasleys or anything. She's still sort of paranoid.  
>Any hints of what we're going to talk about? I'm curious.<em>

_Miss you too, you pouf. Don't get too sentimental on me, though.  
>-Draco<em>

* * *

><p>What did Harry want to talk to him about? Normally, Draco would not be freaking out like this - no, freaking out was not something that a Malfoy did. But for some reason, this was driving him <em>insane<em>. What was so private that Harry didn't want to risk telling him via owl post? After all, it wasn't like anyone ever intercepted their mail or like his mom actually read what it was Harry wrote to him. Their mail was private - something between them. So what was so important that Harry just _had_ to tell him face to face instead of just saying it out loud?

It was driving him mad. He kept his eyes fixed on Harry the entire day when they arrived, questioning, wondering, speculating, but if Harry was dropping any hints, he didn't pick up on them. No, the boy was acting like a normal thirteen year old - he tackled Draco when he saw him, teased Draco per usual, and he gave him his usual we'll-talk-later stare that he normally gave him when he had secrets that he didn't want to discuss in front of anyone else. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing at all. By the time Harry finally did drag him off by his wrist, he was nearly shaking with curiosity, annoyed slightly that his friend waited this long to find some alone time.

"So what's this giant secret of yours?" Draco asked as Harry shut his bedroom door behind the pair of them. "I've only been waiting a bloody month to hear it, and you didn't bother to write me back."

Harry flushed. "Sorry about that," he said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I got...busy. Distracted."

"It seems you've been distracted a lot this year," Draco mumbled quietly, and the only indication that Harry heard him was that he avoided his gaze. The two took their usual seats across from one another on Draco's bed, sitting Indian style facing each other.

"I just have a lot on my mind," Harry said and when Draco opened his mouth to protest, he added quickly, "I know that's no excuse not to write! I feel bloody awful about it. I mean, different houses or not, Mal and I still communicate. He's shown me some of your letters."

Draco blushed. He knew that Malcolm wouldn't keep his letters from Harry (no, the two Potter boys were much closer than that) but he certainly wished now that Mal would have kept certain letters to himself. Draco hadn't exactly been very forgiving for Harry's silence and some days, his side notes about Harry could be far less than complimentary. "Well care to talk about it now?" he asked, careful to keep any annoyance out of his tone. He knew if he pissed Harry off, there was no chance at all of hearing his big secret. And he was _dying_ to hear it.

"I...it's...uhm." Harry's stuttering caused Draco to raise his eyebrows. "I just...Look, Draco, just first...promise you won't judge me, okay?"

"That's hard to do, Potter," he said with a smirk, "since you're just so damn judge-able...but okay, fine. I promise."

"You're a git, Malfoy, I swear to God." The two boys smiled at one another before Harry continued. "It's just...you know, growing older, you start to go through..._changes_."

"Oh shit, Harry, if you're here to talk to me about the birds and the bees, I've already heard that one."

The pillow Harry threw hit him right in the face. "Language, my dearest Draco," he teased. "No, I'm not going to go down that road...trust me, I was very deeply disturbed when Dad and Sirius sat me down..." He shivered. "Though I guess there are perks about learning it from a straight and gay man's perspective...no detail is left out." Draco snorted and his second pillow was thrown with a little less accuracy and instead just hit him in the shoulder. "Shut up, Draco, I'm trying to get on topic here."

"Well you're doing a shoddy job at it."

"Yeah I get that. Anyway, _listen_ to me, all right? Do you...do you think it's weird for a guy to start being like..._attracted_ to another guy?"

Draco's heart stopped. _What_ did he just ask? Was this really happening? Were he and Harry really about to head down this road? He bit his lip. This was either going to end very badly or very well. "H-How do you mean?"

"I mean like..." Harry pursed his lips. "The way that Rachel is attracted to you or me. Do you think it'd be wrong for a guy to be interested in another guy like that?"

"Harry, are you trying to tell me that you're gay?"

The two made eye contact and then quickly blushed and looked away. "Something like that, yeah. Or at least, I think. Ahh, I don't know..."

So there it was. Harry Potter, his best friend, the boy who had been haunting his dreams, was gay. He was gay, and Draco had been dreaming about him and suddenly - suddenly the world had never seemed so bright, and Draco had never been so unsure as to whether or not he should be happy or put off. On one hand, now he knew that his dreams were relatively normal. He wasn't the only one having them about other men and so no matter what Aaron said, it put him on a relatively normal scale. On the other hand, however, this meant that Harry figured out he was gay while at Hogwarts...Did this mean that something there sparked it? Was he dreaming about _Draco_ the way that Draco was dreaming about him? Or was it someone else? If he was attracted to Draco, would Draco be happy about it? After all, it was one thing to dream about Harry. It was another to say that he had a crush on the kid or to say that he would be okay with ever trying to be with him. And what did Harry mean he only _thought_ he was gay? Wasn't he sure? Isn't it something that you just...knew? After all, it had occurred to Draco that easily. Why wasn't Harry the same? He was driving himself crazy with questions and he realized soon with a start that Harry had been staring at him for several minutes, looking a bit expectant and even a little afraid, as if he were waiting for Draco to say something that he wouldn't like. The blond cleared his throat and attempted to find his voice.

"Well." Yeah - very encouraging. What a great friend he was. "I mean...wow. I don't care, I mean, I suppose there's a little bit of that in all of us, right?" Harry raised an eyebrow and Draco flushed. "But uhm...I guess - what brought this on? Or who, I guess is the better question. I mean it sort of came out of...nowhere."

Harry looked visibly more relaxed after that. He leaned back against Draco's headboard, grateful that he hadn't been rejected, and found it in him to speak. "It was at that Quidditch game that you missed, actually," he said and Draco felt his stomach turn when he remembered having to miss the game to stay home with a fever. "I caught the Snitch in what I have to admit was a brilliant display of my athletic ability, and afterward, the Hufflepuff Seeker flew down to thank me." Draco felt his heart sink as Harry's eyes brightened. "His name is Cedric and I have never...I mean, I've watched him play before obviously and we've talked a couple of times so I knew he who was, but nothing like this. He is..."

"Surely something, eh?" Draco tried not to sound too disappointed.

"He's damn perfect. Normally I'd just feel inadequate, y'know, and I'd work harder to kick his ass in everything, but he is...wow." Harry played with Draco's sheets, looking down at his hands and smiling at a memory that didn't include the blond sitting across from him. "He asked if I wanted to go to the next Hogsmeade trip with him. That was the one right before we left for Christmas break. I had a really great time, and it was just me and him...And it wasn't until we got back that I sort of realized what had happened. I mean, I didn't even know he was gay - I wonder how he knew I was."

Draco had never wished that he could just disappear so badly before. Each word Harry said was like a punch in the gut, every happy look was torture. While he knew he should have been happy for his friend - happy that he wasn't confused, happy that he found someone to help him on this journey - instead he was just...he was upset. Because this was just another journey that he felt that he should have been making with Harry that his friend was going ahead and exploring on his own. And he hated it. He absolutely didn't like it. It wasn't supposed to be like that; he and Harry were supposed to go through these big changes together. That's what his dreams meant, right? Isn't that why he was attracted to him? Because it was fate. He looked over and scanned Harry's happy expression again and decided that he must have been wrong. He and Harry were nothing but friends.

"I'm happy for you, Harry," he said, trying to give him a convincing smile. "Really. He...he sounds great."

Harry was positively beaming by then, and he went off on a list of all things Cedric Diggory, from his beautiful eyes to his wicked personality, and he even described part of their 'date' in Hogsmeade. And Draco just sat and listened, feeling rather pained, wondering for a moment if getting your heart crushed was a decent way of getting rid of wet dreams.

* * *

><p><em>Draco,<br>I told Ced about you as soon as I got back. He can't  
>wait to meet you at the next game. You're going to<br>love him. I don't think he and I are anything really..  
>not like, boyfriends or anything. But he's really cool.<br>You'll see when you meet him._

_Hope you're enjoying that Christmas present of mine.  
>And don't think I missed that you wore my tie at Christmas<br>dinner. I WILL get it back, you little thief._

_I'm thinking of telling my parents just to see what they  
>think...and are you sure you're okay? You seemed a little<br>put off throughout holidays. I don't want this to ruin anything  
>between us...Get back to me.<br>-Harry_

* * *

><p><em>Harry,<br>I see that Dearest Draco thing sure lasted. I win._

_No, I don't have any problems with it at all! Don't be  
>daft. Like I said - I think we all have that gay bit inside<br>of us. The one that fancies blokes. Why would it bother  
>me? I was just still recovering. Flu and all. You should<br>definitely tell your parents, though. Better now than later  
>aye? <em>

_Thanks for the chocolates, Harry, though you really shouldn't  
>fuel my sweet tooth. I'll end up fat. Dudley style. Ugh. Gross.<br>Can't wait to meet Cedric...he sounds great. I'm sure he's like,  
>bloody brilliant. Just remember how much older he is and don't<br>get hurt. I'd have to kill him.  
>-Draco<br>PS: you're never getting that tie back. Cry me a river._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> I'm so sorry that I haven't updated and when I do, you get this short little thing. But again - in the school years, nothing important really happens but self-discovery! I'm going to try to update more often (this is just pitiful) but I am very busy with school etc. etc. so no promises. I love you guys, and your kind words mean the world to me. Short as this is, I hope you enjoyed it anyway. xo.


	7. Time Isn't Healing

**Author's Note:** WARNING. This is an angst chapter. To be honest, I'm not really sure where it came from, but all teens have angst, right? I'll be editing it tomorrow when I'm more awake but I do want to get it up just because I feel like it's readable. Just not perfect. Sorry for the angst again but I promise it all ties in. Cute fluffiness (well, fluffy for Draco and Harry) in the next chapter to make up for it. Pinky promise. Thanks so much for your kind reviews. I love you all. xo.

* * *

><p>Cedric was...great. No - it was worse than that. Cedric was <em>perfect<em>. Draco honestly hated to admit it - hated it with every fiber of his being - but when he finally got around to meeting Cedric Diggory...He liked him.

It all started with the stupid Quidditch World Cup, too. Draco had been doing such a great job of making excuses as to why he couldn't meet his friend's boyfriend while he was visiting Hogwarts for just House games. It wasn't exactly hard to do. Harry was trusting and gullible and Draco...Draco was a Malfoy. It was in his blood to be able to lie on the spot, and he had to admit that he had some pretty amazing acting skills. Harry never doubted his reasoning for a second and Draco never had to see the guy who had stolen Harry's heart. It was perfect.

Then Harry had written to him to tell him that Ron's Dad had gotten extra tickets so that the Weasleys, the Potters, Hermione and Draco could all go to the Quidditch World Cup together. With Top Box seats. Draco, of course, could not refuse such a beautiful offer and had taken weeks to convince his mum that he would be safe. Mr. Weasley, after all, _was_ a Ministry official and while Harry's Auror father couldn't make it, Ron had several older brothers that would be there for protection in addition to Mr. Weasley. Narcissa had been, of course, reluctant, but (much to Draco's despair) when Harry wrote to add that his soon legal boyfriend would also be attending and would not allow any harm to come to any of the boys, she gave in, thinking that was more than enough protection for just one boy against a father who was probably banned anyway. With Draco's promise already that he'd attend the World Cup and all of the begging he had done to get there, there was no way he could back out of it now. It would raise suspicion and he really didn't want to answer questions about why the sudden appearance of Cedric made the outing something he was coming to dread.

So he let himself go. He let himself get in the car with Harry when Lily and James came to pick them up. He let himself be driven to the Burrow (as they all so lovingly called it) and allowed himself to get introduced to the rest of the Weasley. He let himself walk with the large group to where the Portkey would be, let himself get introduced to Cedric, let him _shake his hand_, and let himself get whisked away to the grounds where they would be staying as if he didn't notice that Harry and Cedric were holding hands in addition to holding onto the Portkey. As if he didn't care.

It would have been much easier to deal with if he genuinely hated Cedric. It would be easier to be upset, easier to tell Harry that he needed to get a new boyfriend. But Draco and Cedric got along perfectly. Though the boy was admittedly older than them, he was kind and charming. He didn't speak to them as though he was above them - if anything, he praised anyone that he could and brought himself down with a humbleness that made Draco sick to his stomach. He laughed loudly at every joke, no matter how bad, just to make the person who told it feel better; he smiled throughout every conversation to keep the mood light. And nice as he was, he was also quick on his feet, and he was able to trip up even Harry with his sharp tongue and quick wit. It was really no wonder that the brunette had fallen for him, and Draco found his stomach twisting as he realized that he was growing rather fond of the kid, too.

"This sucks," Draco mumbled, kicking at a rock on the ground while Harry, Cedric and Hermione tried to help Mr. Weasley set up the tent that they'd brought (ever the Muggle enthusiast, Mr. Weasley had insisted on setting up the tent without magic). Malcolm tore his gaze away from the clearing next to the tent, where Ginny was sitting with the twins, to look at the blond.

"What sucks?"

"This. Having to wait for the tent to be set up. Why doesn't he just use magic?"

Malcolm frowned as he followed Draco's gaze. He knew that the Malfoy boy could be a little uptight about the way things went, but he never thought he'd see him upset at the lack of magic. After all, is that not how he'd grown up?

"I think he's just having a bit of fun, really," Malcolm replied, kicking the rock that Draco had shot his way back toward the blond. "I mean, that's the way Mr. Weasley is."

"Well he doesn't have to use up Harry's time. Cedric and Hermione are more than enough to help him set up."

The two boys turned their attention back to the tent building process, something that seemed to be severely slowed down by the fact that Harry and Cedric had been attempting a sort of Twister move in order to set up different parts and had instead fallen over one another, knocking everything down. Draco was nearly steaming as he watched the two laugh, and he thought that he'd be sick when Cedric wiped the dirt he got on his hand on Harry's nose. He should have felt happy for his friend; he knew that he should have. But the only thing that he could think was that it should be him over there. It should be him Harry was falling over. Not that stupid perfect Hufflepuff from planet No Flaws.

"I think Harry just volunteered because Cedric did," Malcolm said, not knowing how his words seemed to eat at his friend. "And Ced just offered because...well, he's Ced." Draco noticed the corners of the younger Potter boy's mouth twitching as he watched his brother attempt to escape Cedric's playful hold to rub dirt back in his face. "Besides, they're having a hell of a lot more fun than we are, it seems."

"Well that's stupid." Draco sat down, letting out a huffy breath, and Malcolm raised an eyebrow before sitting down next to him.

"Draco...is something wrong?"

"_Yes_ something's wrong, Malcolm. _Obviously_ something's wrong."

"Well, do you want to talk about it?"

Draco glanced sideways at the younger boy. Throughout the years, he and Malcolm had become rather close. Not as close as him and Harry by any means (who in the world was as close as the pair of them?) but close enough that Draco had confided a lot in him. However, he hadn't told the younger Potter yet about his crush on Harry. Hell, he hadn't even told him that he was _gay_. That was a secret that was too hard to say that would be going to a person too close to the source of his teen angst. But he knew he couldn't hide it forever. And it had been so _long_ since he realized his attraction to Harry...if he didn't tell someone soon, he was bound to explode by the sheer enormity of his own secret.

"I just...I don't like Cedric." Draco pulled at the grass beneath them, not wanting to look at anyone as he began to make his confession. "No. No, wait, that's not true. I really like Cedric. I think he's great - that's why I really don't like him."

"You lost me," Malcolm said, furrowing his brow. "Do you like Cedric or do you not?"

"I don't. Well, I do."

"Draco, you're going to have to make a little more sense here," Malcolm said and then Draco let out a small shout in frustration, pulling up the grass in earnest.

"I _hate_ him," he said. "I do. I really, really do. He thinks he's so god damn _charming_ and _cute_ like some sort of magical _fairy_ from beyond the stars, but no one can be that perfect, right Mal? No one can be that bloody _flawless_. There's something wrong with him, something he's not telling us, and he's going to hurt Harry, I _know_ he will. He doesn't _deserve_ him. He doesn't even know anything about him except that he can play Quidditch. That's probably all he bloody cares about."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows, surprised. "I...I didn't know you felt like that," he said. "I mean, maybe you're just tired from the trip, Draco. You just met him today...Maybe you're just...imagining things."

"I'm most certainly _not_ imagining things," Draco said bitterly. "Cedric is just not worthy of Harry, and he's just going to end up hurting him and who is going to have to pick up those pieces? Huh? I'll tell you who, Mal. Me. I'm going to have to deal with all of Harry's heartbreak and moaning and bitching and he'll be upset at any mention of Cedric and bloody _breakfast_ can't fix a broken heart, Mal, believe me, I've tried it, and it's just not bloody _fair_ that he gets Harry all complete and new and I'm left with the pieces when he's done. It's not bloody _fair._"

Where there had once been a fairly nice patch of grass, there was now a circle of soil, and Draco continued to claw at it in frustration, his voice reaching a tone and pace breaching on hysteria. Malcolm stared at him, wide-eyed, but didn't say a word. He didn't feel it was his place to.

"It should be me," Draco finally said, dropping some soil back down to the ground. "With Harry. It should be me."

If Malcolm was surprised, he was extremely good at hiding it. He just gave his friend a small, sad smile and covered his hand with his own in a comforting gesture, one that for the first time, Draco didn't pretend he didn't need. Then the two looked back toward the tent where they were finally getting something that looked a little bit like a shelter and Malcolm gave Draco's hand a comforting squeeze when Cedric and Harry exchanged lovesick grins over the jumble of poles, stakes, and fabric.

* * *

><p>"Isn't this great, Draco?" Harry was positively beaming as the two walked through the camp ground, looking every which way to take in every sight. Though it had taken a while, they had all finally set up the tent and gotten a fire going so that they could cook, and when Harry and Draco finished up early, they decided to take a little stroll around the place to give everyone else time to sit and enjoy their meals. Honestly, Draco wasn't anywhere near full but when Harry had sped through his dinner and announced that he wanted to go on a walk, Draco decided that food could wait. He had to get to his friend before Cedric did if he ever wanted any time alone with him.<p>

"It's really...something," Draco replied, smiling genuinely for the first time since arriving at the grounds. "I didn't know there were so many wizards. How are they keeping it all concealed from the Muggles around?"

"Some sort of weird spell, I think," Harry said, brow furrowed. "They walk up to it and then forget what they're doing or something like that. I heard Mr. Weasley talking about it before we left this morning."

Draco nodded but didn't respond. It was nice, just being alone with Harry, and though he wanted to make the most of it, he couldn't think of what to say. He hadn't known that he could feel this hurt before - like Harry had stabbed him in the back without even realizing it. Even when they were alone and talking, like now, he couldn't forget the happy look on Harry's face when he was around Cedric, the sight of his best friend's hand in that of the older boy he had met earlier that day. It was like his mind was torturing him; like it enjoyed showing him something he had been vying for but could never have. And to make it worse, Harry was so happy that he just felt like more a dick for being so upset about it.

"Whoa," Harry said as the approached the side of the campground where the more hardcore Ireland supporters were staying. "This is..."

"Green," Draco finished, eyes widening. Though they were previously walking in shadows and darkness as the sun set behind them, they were now illuminated in a shining green light. All around them, the entire place seemed to be illuminated by small, crystalline shamrocks - all the tents were covered, they were embroidered into the shirts of everyone around, and even things like cauldron's and children's broomsticks had shiny green shamrocks attached to them. The grass even seemed to be greener beneath their feet and Draco thought to himself that some people took their Quidditch allegiances a little _too_ seriously.

"Oi! Harry!"

Out of the mass of green that they had just walked into, a few people made themselves easy to find by waving their arms around and walking toward them. Harry, who obviously recognized the teenagers making their way toward them, waved back enthusiastically, smiling brightly and saying, "Seamus! Dean! It's good to see you, mates. I didn't know you would be here."

The boys nodded back with such eagerness that Draco soon realized that he was going to be involved in a conversation with people he didn't know. Again. Having met enough of the new people in Harry's life, he tugged on his friend's sleeve and said quietly, "I'm going to go see if I can buy some of these shamrocks off someone," and walked away, making sure to stay within Harry's eyesight as he looked for someone to talk to.

Almost as soon as he stepped away from his friend, though, someone caught him by his arm and pulled him outside of the tents.

"Hey!" Draco exclaimed, struggling against the tight hold on his arm. "What the bloody _Hell_ do you think you're doing?"

"Such language, Draco," a low voice sneered and Draco felt his blood run cold at the familiarity of it. "Did they forget to teach you _manners_ in that filthy Muggle school you attend?"

"D-Dad," Draco said, eyes widening slightly. "W-What...no, you're not supposed to be here."

His father laughed. "I don't know who gave you these delusions of authority, my dear little Squib, but they need to stop filling your head with nonsense. I am free to go wherever I wish." He pulled Draco closer to him, and the boy whimpered. "Even if they happen to allow certain filth onto their grounds."

Behind them, Draco heard Harry call his name, and when he turned his head to look for his friend, his father pulled him further into the darkness. "L-Let go of me," Draco said, starting to pull against his dad again. "You have n-no right to-"

"D-Do I r-really have n-no right?" Lucius teased and the hold on Draco's arm grew painfully tight. Draco could just imagine what was in store for him now; he could almost feel his father's fingers tightening, could feel the simple jerk to snap his arm out of place, and he could feel the painful blow that would knock the wind out of him and the _pop_ his arm would make, the same _pop_ it made so many years ago...

"Where's your mother?" Lucius demanded, pulling Draco around to face him. "Where have you two gone off to without me?"

"I-I'm not telling you," Draco said, afraid of moving for fear of getting hurt again. "It's none of your concern."

"Draco..." His dad's voice was almost a growl and the young blond gasped as fingernails dug into his skin, sure to leave bruises and threatening to draw blood. "You wouldn't want to make me upset, would you?"

"I'm not t-telling you."

"Oh, Draco. Such a mistake from someone so young..."

And there it was. The final bend, the break, the _pop_, the pain that was going to make him lose consciousness, that would make him cry out - cry out for Severus, for Narcissa, for Harry, for _anybody_ to stop what was happening. Because this wasn't supposed to happen, this couldn't be real, but it _was_ and now his father was brandishing his wand, putting it in Draco's face and it was over. It was all over and all because he had lost it, he had lost his magic and it was all beyond his control...

"_Stupefy!_"

The spell came from several places at once and Draco pulled his arm back as the hold on him loosened and he found himself pulled back into a familiar embrace, the strong arms of a Seeker holding him back as he tried to pull away, tried to run, run like his instincts were telling him.

"Draco!" Harry said, pulling his friend into him. "Draco, shhh, it's me. It's Harry. It's just Harry!"

And it was. It was Harry's arms that were pulling him back, Harry's smell that took over his body, and it was Harry who was holding him, who was rubbing soothing circles on his back as he tried to hold back his tears. It was Harry that cradled Draco's head to his chest, Harry that soothed him with quiet words, with telling him that _shhh, Draco, it's okay, he can't hurt you, shh it's just me, it's just me_. It was Harry that kissed the top of his head in a soothing manner, Harry that let him cry on his shoulder, Harry that allowed Draco to cling to his chest and just let it all out because it had been _nine years_ since he'd seen him and somehow, his father had found him, his father had been able to hurt him, after nine long years...

"Harry, he's hurt."

Cedric's voice came from Draco's left, concerned, and when Harry brought his hand to the scratches Draco's father had left on his arms, it was too much for the blond to take and he found himself unable to think now, capable only of crying into Harry's chest for every injustice he had encountered until his friend's soothing voice began to start sounding farther and father away and eventually faded into nothingness.

* * *

><p><em>Draco,<br>Are you okay? Why haven't you written? I'm going  
>mad right now! When did you get out of the hospital?<br>Don't try to lie and tell me that you didn't, either, I saw  
>the letters you wrote to Malcolm. What's wrong? Talk to<br>me, Draco, please. Did your dad find you again? Why were  
>you in the hospital at all? Draco, you little shit, answer me!<br>- Harry_

* * *

><p><em>Harry,<br>Calm yourself, you crazy little buffoon. I'm FINE. Yes, I'm out  
>of the hospital, okay? It was no big deal. I got in a fight with<br>Aaron and the bloody git just popped my shoulder out of place  
>and Mum overreacted. Okay? Okay. You can calm down now.<br>Just go continue snogging Cedric and don't worry about me.  
>- Draco<em>

* * *

><p><em>Draco,<br>You must think I'm a bloody idiot. Your arms are all scratched up  
>you tore up your own skin. What's wrong? Don't lie to me, Draco,<br>we're closer than that...Just talk to me. I know I'm with Ced but  
>that doesn't change anything about us. He's busy with the Tournament<br>right now...I have time for you. I always have time. You just have  
>to talk to me.<br>- Harry_

* * *

><p><em>Stupid Git,<br>I can't believe you read my mail to your brother! That's  
>private. I'm telling you, it's NOTHING. I'm just freaking out<br>a little bit and having nightmares but I'm fine. Focus on your  
>boyfriend. Leave. Me. Alone.<br>- Draco_

* * *

><p><em>Dear You Stupid Fucking Prat,<br>No.  
>- Harry<em>

* * *

><p>It wasn't his first therapy session, nor would it be his last. When Draco had woken up with strange scratches on his shoulder blades and stomach, his mum had simply been concerned that her son was scraping himself on the wall somehow in his sleep. However, when the scratches continued to appear on more parts of his skin and Draco actually succeeded in pulling away flesh in his sleep, she knew it was something more than that. Draco's dreams of his father were getting increasingly worse by the night, and try as hard as she did, Narcissa didn't know how to make them stop. She had hoped that in time, Draco would forget the trauma of his past but as it seemed, time wasn't healing him at all. If anything, it was making things worse. It was then that she did the only thing she could think of - she sent Draco to a hospital where he was treated for his scratches and it was suggested that he begin seeing a psychiatrist. And that was how his time with Dr. Fuller began.<p>

"You're looking rather down today, Draco," Dr. Fuller said, crossing her legs beneath that annoyingly unprofessional skirt of hers, painted lips pursed as she surveyed the boy in front of her. Draco just shrugged in reply, not wanting to talk. "Has something happened since our last session?"

"No."

"No?"

"That's what I said."

"Nothing at all?"

Draco sighed. He hated Dr. Fuller. He hated her unprofessional attire, her dark makeup, her infuriating know-it-all tone, and most of all he hated that she could read him like an open book while everyone else around him was lost. "Harry wrote to me."

"Ahh, right, the famous Harry Potter." Draco cringed. "What happened with that, Draco?"

"He's still with Cedric," the boy mumbled quietly and Dr. Fuller wrote something down on that stupid notepad of hers. Draco hated that notepad.

"And does this upset you?"

"Obviously."

More scribbles. More notes. More documentation of Draco's pathetic life. He sighed again - loudly.

"I see. And what about your scratching? Have you started harming yourself in your sleep again?"

Draco flushed. "No. We're all peachy on that front." He didn't mention that his dreams of his father had been replaced again. He didn't mention the intimate positions he found himself in with Harry or the nightmares about interrupting him and Cedric. He didn't mention waking up in a cold sweat most nights or how many cold showers he subjected himself to just to be able to function anymore. He didn't mention that he was still very much in love with his best friend and that he wished the scratching was back because it at least kept his mind off his heart break. No - he didn't mention any of that. He just sat there, staring blankly at his therapist, hoping to God that their hour together would end soon.

"Hm. I see. Are you going to write back to him, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco shook his head and their session ended. Dr. Fuller thanked him for his time, and he nodded his goodbye, happy to be rid of her. Harry wrote him three more times that week. Draco ignored every single letter.

* * *

><p><em>Draco,<br>I don't know why you're ignoring me. I'm not going to  
>just sit back and take it, though, so you better get used<br>to that._

_School ends soon and because of events that have happened,_  
><em>I've decided to write you a longer letter. I just thought that I'd<em>  
><em>tell you that Cedric and I broke up. After the Yule Ball he kept<em>  
><em>pressuring me to go "further" with our relationship, if you catch<em>  
><em>my drift and I kept saying no. Then he started going off on me for<em>  
><em>writing these stupid long letters to you all the time and I couldn't<em>  
><em>stand hearing him talk bad about you so I...I just...dumped him.<em>  
><em>He wasn't worth it. I just...thought you'd want to know. As my<em>  
><em>friend.<em>

_Am I still welcome at your place this summer? I miss you, and  
>I'm sick of Malcolm knowing what's going on and not me. Neither<br>one of us is good with fights but...whatever I did, Draco, I'm sorry.  
>I just want my best friend back.<em>

_Please write back before the end of the year. Please. Nothing has ever  
>meant more to me than you answering this letter. I just want to know<br>that you're okay. That thing at the World Cup did something to you...I just  
>want to help you get through it. Please get back to me.<em>

_Miss you.  
>- Harry<em>

* * *

><p><em>Harry,<br>You're always welcome at my place. I'm sorry about you and Ced.  
>I'll tell you everything when you get here. Absolutely everything.<br>I've been such an idiot. _

_Get here soon. We have a lot to talk about._

_Love you.  
>- Draco<em>


	8. Boyfriends

"I think I'm going to tell Harry."

Draco bit down on his lip, looking at Dr. Fuller from beneath his lashes. The woman raised an eyebrow, jotted something down (_What significance could that possibly hold?_ Draco thought, annoyed), and then looked back at him. "Tell him what exactly, Draco?"

"That I'm sorry. For how I acted about Cedric." More scribbling. "And that I'm gay." More scribbling, definitely more scribbling. "And that I'm in love with him." Dr. Fuller was writing furiously now, hand flying across the page leaving words that could hardly be legible. Draco sat there awkwardly, picking at his fingernails. That was the first time he'd ever said the words. _I'm gay...I'm in love with him_. It felt so awkward to be saying but yet...so right at the same time. It just made perfect sense - he was gay. He was gay and he was in love with his best friend, and fifteen years old or not, he _knew_ that was how he felt. It wasn't something he had a chance to doubt because it simply _was_ and saying it out loud just made it that much more final.

"This is definitely an...uhm, it's a different development. When did you realize that you were homosexual, Draco?"

_When I was five and Harry first held my hand_, he thought to himself, but he knew that wasn't an acceptable answer. Admittedly, there had been a sense of rightness that day when Harry refused to let go of his wrist, but he doubted Dr. Fuller wanted to hear cliche romantic tales of rightness and childhood puppy love. She wanted to know about the nights that kept Draco up until he couldn't bare to be awake, when his dreams first started being haunted by his dark-haired best friend. That was the kind of shit therapists got their jollies out of. "I figured it out when I was twelve. It wasn't like it was particularly difficult."

"How do you mean? Most boys your age really struggle with their sexualities."

Draco shrugged. "Most boys my age aren't like me."

"I see." More scribbling. "And when did this...infatuation with Harry begin?"

_When I was five and he sneaked us chocolate cake_. "It's not an infatuation."

"Draco, you're fifteen years old and you just outed yourself to your therapist after months and months of therapy...I don't think you really have grounds to say that-"

"I have grounds to say whatever I want," Draco snapped. "Look, I've known Harry for _ten years_. If I had an infatuation, wouldn't it have gone away by now?" No reply. "I have had feelings for him for three years. And it _sucks_. I don't idealize Harry or the way he is and I most certainly don't think that he's some Prince Charming that's going to whisk me away on a white horse. This isn't Disney Channel." Dr. Fuller started writing again, and Draco tried not to let it annoy him further. "It's more than an infatuation, and the fact that I've been keeping it a secret isn't fair. Not to me and certainly not to Harry."

More scribbling. A few curious glances. A few tutting noises. Draco tried to ignore them all. He could tell that she was judging him, scribbling down little notes about how he was confused about his sexuality and feelings for his friend. He got that. He figured it would be the reaction when he finally came out and said it. He just wished it didn't annoy him as badly as it did.

"Well that's all the time we have for today. Good luck with...with your plans. When are you expecting to see him again?"

Draco looked up at the clock. "When I get home," he said, slightly surprised. He forgot how long these sessions could run. Dr. Fuller just nodded and showed him out the door like she usually did, not bothering to ask if he was nervous or not. To be honest, Draco doubted she even cared.

* * *

><p>Harry was already making himself at home in Draco's room by the time the blond got home. It was so routine by then - Harry would arrive, unpack his things, and the two would spend the rest of the summer together - that despite Draco's moodiness for the past year, he wasn't surprised at all to see Harry lying on his bed reading a Quidditch magazine the moment he entered the room.<p>

"You've really gotta be more careful about you read in the open," Draco scolded teasingly, leaning against the door frame. Harry jumped, startled by the sudden appearance of the blond, and in a heartbeat, he was jumping off the bed and clinging to Draco so tightly that it hurt.

"You are an absolute _prat_," Harry said, resting his chin on Draco's shoulder. "You've had me worried for the past _year_ and the first thing you do when you see me is scold me for reading a Quidditch magazine out in the open?" He paused before adding, "That is so like you."

"I didn't want to upset the natural order of things, mate," the blond grinned, and then he pulled away from his friend so that he was able to look him in the eye. "Or upset it any more than I have already. I've been such a moron."

"Yeah, no kidding." Draco flushed, but Harry didn't sound annoyed or angry. Just relieved and a little bit tired, as if he'd been staying up for weeks just to worry about him. The idea made Draco's stomach turn. "But hey, at least you've finally pulled your head out of your ass, right?"

"Something like that." The two exchanged grins before Harry grabbed Draco's wrist and started to pull him toward the bed.

"Then get talking. I want to get all of this serious shit over and done with, you know? Then we can just...move on."

"Right," Draco said, taking his usual spot at the foot of his bed. "Move on." He cleared his throat as Harry settled himself near the headboard, staring up at him expectantly. "Just...don't interrupt me, okay? You have to promise. Because you interrupt like no man's business, Harry, I swear."

"I won't interrupt you," Harry said, feigning annoyance. "Just _talk_ Draco."

"Okay okay." He took a deep breath. "It all sort of started with you and Cedric. I mean, I didn't think that it would bother me as much as it did but _obviously_ I'm a very selfish person and sharing isn't exactly my strong point so when I actually saw you two together-"

"Whoa, wait, sharing? You were jealous of Cedric?"

"Harry, you're my best mate, but kindly _shut the Hell up_ while I talk, okay?" The brunette nodded and Draco continued on. "_Anyway_, like I said, selfish, jealous, hated seeing you two together. So that was already bothering me. And then my dad showed up..." He shivered. "I was shaken. To the core. At least, that's how the doctor's described it. I was in such a shit place...I was having nightmares again, and then I had the added bonus of clawing my skin out while I freaked out. Pretty fun, but it generally fucked up my appearance which is no good so my mom sent me to the hospital and they sent me to a psychologist and I just didn't want to talk to you because, you see, I'm gay and I'm sort of kind of in love with you and that whole I'm-selfish-and-get-jealous-easily factor wasn't going to help my mental psyche at all. And that's what you missed while you were off being a little fairy princess at Hogwarts with that complete poufer Cedric Diggory."

Harry's eyes widened. "I'm sorry?"

"Apology accepted. I'm sure you didn't know you were being such a prat, but we can put aside our problems now that he's out of the way."

"What? No, I mean...can you repeat that last part again?"

Draco flushed. "Why? Weren't you listening?"

"No, no, I was, it's just..._what_?"

Okay - this wasn't going exactly as planned. No big deal. Draco could handle that. He could take it. And he most certainly was not _hurt_ and it most certainly did _not_ feel like his heart was being torn apart at the seams again. No. Absolutely not. He was _fine_.

"Draco, did you just say that you're gay?"

"That would be a 'yes', Potter. I see they're doing a fabulous job at teaching you to listen up in that big castle."

"And did you say you're sort of kind of in love with me?"

"_Yes_, Harry, I believe I did."

"I see."

Draco stared at him. "That's it?"

"What's it?"

"'I see'? I just told you how I feel about you and all you can say is _I see_?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

Draco was crestfallen. Though he had no expectations whatsoever for how Harry would react to his news, this general apathy wasn't exactly what he was hoping for. Really, in his mind, it all worked out right in the end. Harry admitted that he felt the same way, that Cedric was just a convenience to help him cope with being away, and then the two talked out their relationship and _wow_ he had been watching too many romantic comedies since going through puberty. But regardless, he didn't expect this. He didn't expect Harry to be sitting there, staring at him critically as if analyzing every move. As if Draco was playing a trick on him.

"I mean," Harry said eventually when Draco failed to comment further, "it's not like I'm going to _object_ to it seeing as I've had feelings for you for years now, but this is not how I pictured this going."

_What?_ If it was socially acceptable, Draco would have screamed. Really? _Really?_ That absolute _prat_. How dare he keep his feelings a secret for more than a minute after Draco had confessed his. How dare he freak him out like that. That was sick; it was cruel. But it was oh so very _Harry_ that Draco couldn't even stand to call him out on it. Instead, he just laughed and said, "Yeah well, uhm, welcome to the party." He paused. "Out of curiosity, though, how did you picture this 'going down'?"

Harry shrugged. "I pictured it as more of a nonverbal thing. You know, obvious sexual tension, a little dating on both sides of the equation, and then in our later years we would share some experimental kiss moments - in a perfect cheesy world, they'd be the first moments but I'm afraid Ced took those from you. Sorry. But then it would slowly bloom like a flower or something equally as homosexual and then no one would be able to deny our love and please, feel free to stop me at any time, I feel like one of those ridiculous movies that Aunt Petunia's always watching."

Draco snickered quietly. "You are quite possibly the most gay person I have ever met in my life," he said, and Harry threw a pillow at him, which he easily dodged.

"Coming from the guy who organizes his closet for fun!" the brunette teased. "Oh that's rich, Draco. A romantic imagination is nothing compared to how devastated you look when a grey shirt gets mixed in with all of your blues."

"Organization is a life skill, Potter. What about you, though? You _swoon_ over musicals when they're on TV in the summertime."

"Musicals are artsy! Men like art. Even straight ones. However what isn't very straight is when I wake up and you're in the kitchen with a fluffy pink _apron_-"

"Oh sod off, Harry, it's the only one we have!"

"-making me _breakfast_. Honestly, Malfoy, why haven't they chopped off your balls yet and just made you an honorary girl?"

The two paused, glaring at one another, and then in an instant, their expressions fell into smiles and they broke out into fits of laughter. Draco grabbed at his sides as he remembered the defensive tone Harry had taken when he mentioned musicals and it took all his willpower to remain upright so that he wouldn't fall off the bed from the force of his laughs. Harry leaned back against the wall, wiping his eyes as he tried to regain himself and soon the two were holding each other up, arms around the other's shoulder, once more the best of friends. They both leaned forward while laughing at the same time, knocked heads, and that sent them into a brand new fit of giggles, one that made Draco's sides ache and his head spin. Regardless of whether Harry returned his feelings, he had missed this. He'd missed the simple things like making fun of Harry for his interests, laughing fits that threatened to kill him, and the brightness in Harry's eyes when he paused to smile at Draco before being reminded of the last statement spoken and cracking up again. He missed their camaraderie - he had been too long without a companion and as great as his friends were, who in the world could compare to Harry? Who else could send him reeling with nothing more than a mischievous glance in his direction? No one. These were things unique to their friendship, something he couldn't share with anyone else. And suddenly, when their heads came together again, they didn't pull away and during a pause in their laughter, Harry brought his lips to Draco's softly, experimentally, as if he wasn't really sure he was doing something right.

Draco's stomach fluttered at the light contact and when his body didn't respond by bringing up more giggles, he allowed himself to attempt to return Harry's kiss, though honestly it was just a matter of pressing against him harder and then pulling away before the euphoria hit and he was sent into another fit of laughter, which Harry soon joined once more. The only difference this time around was every once in a while Harry would lean in and plant small kisses on his lips, and though Draco still couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling up in his chest, he had honestly never been happier.

* * *

><p><em>Dear boyfriend (because I can call you that),<br>I'm in the kitchen making breakfast. I figured that I ought  
>to try to return the favor of what you've been doing for years<br>now. I hope you like cereal because that's honestly all I'm good  
>for when it comes to cooking.<em>

_I think we really need to talk about this, though. We're just  
>fifteen so I don't want to sound like I'm taking us too seriously<br>but if we broke up, who would make me pancakes? So we do need  
>to discuss it. Nothing bad. I promise. Just adjustments.<em>

_Also, you snore. Someone had to tell you eventually.  
>-Harry<em>

* * *

><p>Draco had never had a better bowl of cereal in his entire life. Okay, maybe that was exaggerating - Harry used a little <em>too much<em> milk and he had grabbed one of those really sugary cereals that Draco's mum really enjoyed that gave the blond boy a headache, but he at least _tried_ right? And that was all that really mattered. Besides, it was nice waking up to someone else having prepared something. Especially when that someone else was someone who had left him (in the sappiest gesture in the world) a note calling him his boyfriend to view when he woke up in the morning. That was definitely an added bonus.

He wasn't even really concerned that Harry said that they had to talk. He knew they would. The previous day had been all emotions and giggling and small kisses, but when it came down to it, he knew they were going to have problems. Nine months out of the year, Harry was at school, hundreds of thousands of miles away, and though Draco would like to come out and say that long distance was something they could work with, Harry had a point. They were only fifteen. They shouldn't have to worry about the seriousness that a long distance relationship would entail and they definitely didn't need to start prancing around getting all sorts of attached when they would grow up so much in the next few years without one another. It was expected. But it was also something that Draco was willing to work with because even if he and Harry weren't some sort of big, serious couple that everyone would say 'forever' about, he did want to make it past adolescence with the knowledge that he had someone there who cared about him - y'know, someone he could take it seriously with in a couple of years.

So he wasn't worried. In fact, when Harry settled down next to him, giving him a sappy grin over his sugar bowl of death, Draco was even the one to start them on the road to that conversation. "I'm guessing this whole separation anxiety we've had since we were five is just going to get worse now. Isn't it?"

Harry laughed, taking a bite of cereal to keep himself from going on for too long. "Yeah, probably," he admitted. "But it's nothing constant writing can't solve, right?" He paused, pushing his cereal around in his bowl. "And uhm...that's one thing I wanted to really talk about. Being apart like that...it can get...difficult. Lonely." Draco's stomach dropped. "I mean I don't want to say that we just sort of forget each other and go and date different people because I am not, _not at all_ okay with the idea of any of these creepy Muggles trying to touch my boyfriend-" Draco grinned, "- but I don't think we should take it too seriously. I mean, I'll tell Ron and Hermione obviously, and you can tell...Aaron and Rachel and them if you really want. But I don't want us to be one of those really disgusting couples that says 'forever' too soon and gets jealous over little things like complimenting other people. You know?"

Draco nodded. "I understand completely," he said. "I do. And it's no problem, Harry. Really I'm surprised you even want to...date me." He dropped his spoon back in his bowl, already sick of the cereal. "I'm cool just knowing that you feel the same way."

Harry smiled. "Please," he said, "like I'd let you run off not being my boyfriend knowing you feel the same way. What if you met a guy here you just couldn't resist, huh? I'd have to come back from Hogwarts early just to hex him into oblivion." The two boys laughed and Harry found Draco's hand beneath the table. "I just want to be sure nothing's going to change. Don't like...turn into a girl on me. Ced did that and it drove me up the wall."

Draco laughed. "I promise I'm not anything like your poufer Hufflepuff ex. I have more pride than that." His face fell. "I will miss you, though. Not that that's much of a change, but..."

Harry gave him a sad smile and it really said enough then and there. He'd be missed, too. "We'll manage. And then after Hogwarts and after...whatever bloody school you're in now, we'll be able to take it a little more seriously and see where that takes us. For now, though...We'll just have fun, yeah?"

Draco smiled. "Yeah. Totally."

* * *

><p><em>Boyfriend,<br>You left your bloody stuff here again. I swear, Harry,  
>you don't know how to pack to save your life. Next<br>time, I'm doing it for you. That way Mum doesn't give  
>me weird looks when she finds your shit in my laundry.<em>

_Say hey to Ron and 'Mione for me. How's Hogwarts? Send  
>me your Quidditch schedule. Blah blah blah. More formalities.<br>Punch Ced in the face blah blah blah. Or thank him. His idiocy  
>brought me this so I guess I can't complain too much.<em>

_I swear I won't start every letter like that - don't freak out.  
>Just casual, like you said. I remember. I'm not that much of<br>a pansy (especially considering you're the gayer of us here, you  
>little pouf). Anyway, this is sort of pointless. Just wanted to say<br>hey._

_OH and by the way, Doc says I don't have to see her as much anymore.  
>Something about friends being around to help me get over my phobias blah<br>blah blah, ramble ramble, basically you're here and you're a better therapist  
>than she is without even trying so I only have to see her once a month.<br>Wicked._

_Hugs and butterfly kisses,  
>Draco<br>PS - this is the gayest letter you'll ever get from me. Cherish it.  
><em>


End file.
